


The Importance of Bonding

by whiskygalore



Series: Kangaroo Care [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Jensen, Discussion of Abortion, Knotting, M/M, Mpreg, Past Abuse, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 18:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskygalore/pseuds/whiskygalore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for spnmpreg bigbang. Sequel to Kangaroo Care but should be perfectly understandable as a stand-alone.</p>
<p>Omega Jensen, under the watchful care of his true mate, alpha Jeff, is well on the road to recovery after suffering terrible abuse and life-threatening injuries. Deciding whether or not his mate is ready to be claimed and knotted is something that has Jeff utterly confused, especially when the omega still refuses to talk to him. A lack of words doesn’t mean Jensen can’t communicate however and Jeff is a sucker for those big green eyes and that petted lip.<br/>Just when their relationship seems to be on solid ground and their bond stronger than ever, unexpected news blows apart their perfect little world. Assured that Jensen’s injuries had left him as good as infertile, Jeff is horrified to discover that Jensen is pregnant. His knee-jerk reaction threatens to rip apart their bond and the trust that has grown between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Importance of Bonding

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the mods at the Superntural Mpreg Big Bang challenge for running such a wonderful challenge so brilliantly. It's been a joy to be a part of.  
> Many thanks too, to my artist forhimxx, firstly for choosing my story to illustrate and secondly for creating such wonderful artwork, you've been an absolute pleasure to work with!  
> Thanks have to go to my beta vyperdd as well, for all her suggestions and attempts at controlling my love/hate relationship with commas. Any mistakes remaining are completely down to me and my endless fiddling with the story once she had done her best with it.

  
******  
  
**

**Chapter One**

 

"So, Mr Morgan, your omega is gaining weight nicely. He's not quite into the optimum weight range of a healthy adult omega yet but the progress you've made since his last appointment is astonishing.” Doctor Roché looks up from the notes in his hand to address Jeff. “I have to admit, I had my doubts he'd recover sufficiently for you to claim him but it looks as though he should cope perfectly well now, if that's what you're planning."  
  
"Jensen." Jeff replies, trying exceedingly hard not to jump up and pin the condescending ass who calls himself a health professional to the wall by his ears.  
  
The man peers curiously at Jeff over the top of the thick tortoiseshell frame of his spectacles, "I beg your pardon, Mr Morgan?"  
  
"My mate's name is Jensen." Jeff stands up, stalks past the doctor towards the examine table where Jensen - dressed only in a thin blue hospital gown, velcroed loosely at the back of his neck - is perched. His fingers dig into his pale thighs hard enough to leave angry red indents. Jeff strokes his hand gently down the bare skin of Jensen's back and the boy leans in towards him, seeking solace in his touch. "And he's neither deaf nor stupid so I'd appreciate it if you would refrain from treating him as such."  
  
The doctor appears genuinely puzzled by Jeff's rebuke. "I can assure you that I am treating your o... Jensen with as much respect as every other omega under my care."  
  
"That's quite possibly the problem," Jeff growls. Alphas who treat omegas like dim-witted children or even worse, mere possessions are unfortunately still far too common.  
  
"Yes... well, as I was saying." Doctor Roché continues apparently oblivious to Jeff's growing ire. "Physically, all his injuries have healed satisfactorily, apart from the faint scarring remaining on his back obviously, and with his weight no longer a major concern, there shouldn't be a problem should you wish to claim him."  
  
"Really?" Jeff doesn't falter the soothing petting down his mate's back, hoping that Jensen understands the animosity in his tone isn't directed towards him. "And the fact that he still isn't speaking, that isn't a concern?"  
  
"It's not ideal obviously, but it's not the result of a physical injury so I wouldn't let it prevent you from going ahead and claiming him."  
  
If Jeff didn't have Jensen trembling under his hand, he would smash the archaic beliefs right out of this bigoted asshole's head. "So, I shouldn't worry that after months of cruel mistreatment, vicious beatings and Gods only know what other kinds of abuse at the hands of a sadistic bastard - who hasn't been caught by the way - Jensen is still too traumatized to speak. I shouldn't be concerned that knotting the boy, marking him, claiming him, might bring back even more horrendous memories of being so badly assaulted, his insides are permanently fucked up. I shouldn't let the fact that he still suffers from nightmares and panic attacks, stop me from forcing myself on him."  
  
The doctor walks round his office, sits down behind his large walnut desk and with a sigh removes his glasses, rubbing at his eyes as though Jeff is giving him a headache. "Mr Morgan, I appreciate how concerned you are for your mate's welfare and frankly, it's wonderful to see an alpha so deeply devoted to their omega. However, despite your good intentions it may cause your o...Jensen more harm than good by refusing to claim him. While an alpha can live a long and very happy life without their true mate - they can mate perfectly happily with any beta for example - omega's who are shunned by their true-mates all too often end up with severe psychological problems. It's far from unusual for these poor souls to end up in a locked ward of a psychiatric institution. If they don't succeed in killing themselves first that is."  
  
"I'm not shunning my mate, Doctor," Jeff growls, incensed at the suggestion. "I simply refuse to hurt him anymore than he already has been. You know as well as I do that claimings can be violent and painful for an omega; that an alpha is at its most feral and dangerous when claiming his mate. The idea that I might unintentionally hurt Jensen is untenable."  
  
“I don't think you’re giving yourself enough credit, Mr Morgan," the doctor insists, pointing his ballpoint pen in Jeff's direction. "I truly doubt that even in your wildest state you would allow yourself to hurt your omega. Personally, I believe the reassurance and security he would gain by having the bond between you irrevocably sealed heavily outweighs the small risk of injury. The mark of ownership you seem so reluctant to make is the surest way for your omega to feel safe and protected. To convince him he can't be removed from your care and to reassure him that you'll never throw him by the wayside. That'll he never be abused and abandoned by you like he was by whatever alpha scumbag it was that left him for dead.”  
  
Fury and guilt war within Jeff. He wants to rip the doctor’s head off for daring to compare him to the evil bastard that left Jensen to rot in a dumpster. He would never hurt Jensen, never abandon him. Jensen knows that. Doesn't he? The idea that he might inadvertently be harming the omega by not claiming him... well, Jeff has to admit, that hadn't occurred to him. Despite the arrogant attitude of the Doctor, Jeff has to concede he may have a point. Admitting that thought aloud though is never going to happen.  
  
"Jensen knows how much I care for him. He knows I would never never allow him to be taken away from me never mind -“ Jeff can't even say it.  
  
"Maybe so, Mr Morgan, maybe so but as they say actions speak louder than words and as far as omegas are concerned, the need and desire to be claimed by their one true-mate is a deeply ingrained base instinct. However, your omega is your concern and who am I to tell you how to treat him. If you decide you don't wish to claim him, I can arrange to have him treated at a very nice private institute that has an excellent track record in preventing omegas from harming themselves."  
  
"No!" Jeff roars storming to the desk and slapping his hands down flat, hard enough to send stinging pains shooting up all the way to his elbows. "My mate stays with me!"  
  
The damned doctor doesn't even flinch; simply smiles. "Good, I'm delighted to hear it. Now, why don't you take your - Jensen home. I think he's experienced enough stress today."  
  
Wrong footed by the man's calm attitude, Jeff glances behind him to see Jensen shivering and looking utterly miserable. Gods, he's an idiot. "Jensen, I'm sorry. We're nearly finished. Go and put your clothes on okay? Then we'll go straight home and relax for a while. Go on, sweetheart."  
  
Jeff holds his hand out, helps Jensen down from the examine table, and leads him to the small changing room where his clothes are. "I'll be waiting right here for you. I promise." He gently kisses the boy's forehead before Jensen disappears, shutting the door quietly behind him.  
  
He turns back to find the doctor smiling at him. Asshole!  
  
"You're wonderful with him, you really are. Not many alpha's would have had the patience or understanding to help him recover so well. I honestly doubted that he'd even survive considering the awful state the poor boy was in originally. Now he's positively thriving."  
  
"He's my mate. I would do anything for him." Jeff says simply.  
  
"I can see that." Doctor Roché stands, walks back around the desk and extends his hand. "Please don't hesitate to get in touch if you have any problems or concerns, but I'm sure you won't have. I believe Jensen is a lot stronger than you realize. Considering the hell he's lived through and survived, he would have to be."  
  
Jeff shakes the hand of the doctor firmly, silently glad that he misjudged the man's character. Maybe he doesn't have the best bedside manner in the world but he obviously cares about his patients in his own patronisingly chauvinistic way.  
  
"Thank you, Doctor. I will think about everything you said. I just don't want to rush into anything that Jensen's not ready for."  
  
"That's not a bad thing, Mr Morgan. Jensen is lucky to have you."  
  
"Not as lucky as I am." Jeff retorts, firmly believing it. "There's one thing," he adds, the thought having suddenly occurred to him. "Do I need to worry about Jensen getting pregnant if I knot him?”  
  
"No, no I don't believe that's going to happen. Jensen's internal injuries were very serious, it was a miracle he survived them. Although thankfully he has healed incredibly well, the chances of him conceiving now are minute, smaller than the usual chances of conceiving while on birth control are actually. If you are concerned, I can write a prescription for the contraceptive pill but given Jensen's reluctance to take medication I don't know if the stress for both of you would be worth it."  
  
The door behind Jeff opens and Jensen is by Jeff's side in the blink of an eye. "No, I don't think that'll be necessary, Doctor Roché." Jeff says, taking Jensen's hand in his and leading him from the room. "Thank you for your time."  
  
"No problem, Mr Morgan. As I said, don't hesitate to get in touch if you need to. Goodbye, Jensen, it was good seeing you again."  
  
  
  
Jensen's hand grips Jeff's tightly and Jeff can feel the tremors running through his body. They don't begin to ease up until they are safely in Jeff's car, Jeff behind the steering wheel and Jensen curled up in the passenger seat, his knees pulled up to his chin, arms folded firmly around them. He's heaving in deep lungfuls of air like he hasn't dared to breathe the entire walk from the doctor’s office to the parking garage. Leaning over and wrapping Jensen into his arms, Jeff mumbles soothing nonsense that means nothing important; it's the deep lilting cadence of his voice that relaxes Jensen, lulls him into a pliant drowsy state.  
  
Jensen doesn't often leave the house. Jeff encourages and cajoles him into making short trips outside with him, but if the boy feels safest in his home then Jeff certainly isn't going to destroy any of the trust they've painstakingly built up by forcing him to venture out when he clearly isn't ready. After all, it's only been ten months since Jeff's sensitive nose sniffed out Jensen's - so faint it was barely there - scent. Ten months since Jeff dug him out of a dumpster, from below layers of rancid trash that had already lured rats to its pungent smell. He'd looked like nothing more than a broken toy, thrown away by a callous owner. Barely recognisable as human, barely alive, barely breathing.  
  
Underneath the odour of blood and filth and the terrifyingly distinct scent of approaching death, Jeff recognised the unmistakeable smell of mate. His true mate, smelling of home, of rich chocolate and dark coffee, of sweet marshmallows and wood burning fire, of pine needles and early autumnal mornings. Every different note Jeff's nose unearthed screamed mine.  
  
Three months after Jeff found his mate, he was able to take him home from the omega health centre. Even then Jensen had hardly been a picture of health; dangerously underweight and terrified of everything. Now nearly seven months down the line, their bond has grown and strengthened tremendously. Jeff loves Jensen; would die for him, would kill for him, _wants_ to kill for him and Jensen... well, Jensen trusts Jeff. Despite the fact he still won't speak, the way Jensen clings to Jeff when he's scared, or wants comfort or just affection, shows Jeff exactly how much he trusts him. It's a hard won honor that Jeff won't jeopardize.  
  
While having Jensen adhered to his side like warm melting toffee is never a bad thing, one of Jeff's favorite things in fact, it's not the most practical position for driving. With some careful maneuvering, he presses Jensen back into his own seat, strapping his seat belt over him, all the while murmuring promises of being home soon.  
  
It's not a long journey home, but the traffic is unusually busy for the time of day and Jeff senses Jensen growing increasingly agitated beside him. His fingers tap louder and louder against the buckle of his seatbelt, his shoulders clench up to his ears, eyes screwing tightly shut. He's not surprised therefore, that when they eventually make it through their front door Jensen takes off. More than likely, he’ll bolt to one of the hidey holes he seeks out when he's upset or stressed, usually when Jeff is trying to persuade him to do something that he doesn't want to do.  
  
Jeff takes his time ridding himself of his shoes and jacket, pops a pre-prepared lasagne in the oven and opens a bottle of merlot, allowing it to breathe before dinner. Then he searches for his mate. He isn't in his own room, Jeff checked under the bed, in the closet and even in his tub which is one of Jensen's more unusual hiding places. He isn't in Jeff's study or the sitting room, hasn't scooped all the cushions off the couch and made himself a soft little padded den in the corner of the room; one of his favourite things to do. Jeff checks every room, all the closets and dark corners he's found Jensen in before as he makes his way through the house to his own bedroom. Sometimes he wishes he had a smaller house.  
  
He expects to find Jensen bundled up amongst Jeff's clothes at the bottom of the large closet in his bedroom so he's more than surprised when he opens the door of his room to discover a large Jensen shaped lump hidden below the covers on his bed. He sits down gingerly on the side of the mattress, careful not to crush his mate or sit on a stray limb. Pulling the heavy feather duvet back he peeks inside the cosy nest to find Jensen's green eyes peering back at him. His arms are wrapped around his slender body, skin flushed pink under the warmth of the duvet and his dark blonde hair is sticking up in dishevelled spikes.  
  
"Hey, sweetheart. What are you doing in there? It's not bedtime yet."  
  
Jensen rolls his eyes. Jensen speak for ‘I’m not an idiot but I think you might be’. Then he shuffles up the bed until Jeff can properly see him. Jensen is naked. From the waist up at least. He has his boxers on, the soft grey jersey ones with jolly red and green holly wreaths dancing across them; the ones Jeff had given him as a silly little gift at Yule and Jensen still insists on wearing despite the winter solstice being weeks past. That's all he has on though and Jeff battles to shove the impure thoughts that burst into his head way down deep. Jensen has no idea what the sight of all that beautiful fair skin does to him.  
  
"You want to snuggle for a while, huh? Okay, but just until dinner then you have to eat all your lasagne without making a fuss." Jeff knows Jensen isn't going to reply but he's never going to stop having these conversations with his mate never mind how one sided they might appear.  
  
Jensen looks at him with wide eyes and just a hint of a pout starting to form on those sweet lips.  
  
"Okay, I'm coming, I'm coming." Jeff strips out of his button down and undershirt then lifts the duvet to slide in beside Jensen. Jensen however grabs the duvet away from Jeff and tucks it around himself so his arms are free but the rest of his body is shrouded tightly in duvet like a mummy. A startled laugh bursts from Jeff, which receives a scowl in reply from Jensen. "Babe, I don't understand. I though you wanted to cuddle for a while. You know if you talked to me this would be much easier."  
  
The scowl on Jensen's face morphs into a deep glower. It's like being scolded by a very cute but extremely irate hedgehog and Jeff struggles to choke down another laugh.  
  
"I'm sorry." Jeff kisses Jensen's scrunched-up nose. "But I still don't understand."  
  
The pointed look Jensen gives Jeff states very clearly, 'you are an imbecile' then he reaches out and tries to - very ineffectively with one hand - unbuckle Jeff's belt.  
  
"Whoa there," Jeff slaps away Jensen's hand, ignores the look of hurt on Jensen's face. "No, that's... that's not a good idea, Jensen. We don't normally... I mean there's no need for our bottom halves to be naked." Even at night when Jensen slips in to Jeff's bed, they at least have on sleep pants. The idea of his and Jensen's naked legs entwined leads to all sorts of illicit thoughts that Jeff is trying hard to subdue.  
  
Jensen tries again though, grabbing at Jeff's belt and yanking it in a crystal clear message.  
  
"Jensen, no! I don't think you need-"  
  
The green eyes in front of him fill up with tears and Jensen's down-turned lips start to tremble. It's a lethally unfair combination. Jeff knows he's going to regret this. He unbuckles his belt and slips out of his pants, pulling his socks off along the way. Jensen beams; his teary eyes and wobbly lip vanishing so fast Jeff suspects he may just have been played, but then Jensen unwraps himself from the duvet, throws it back over the both of them, drapes himself over Jeff and he can't find the energy to care.  
  
  
Weeks after Jensen had been released into Jeff's care; the omega’s weight had dipped dangerously low. Shockingly skinny and malnourished when Jeff had first discovered him, the weight he'd gained while in the health center hadn't been that much of an improvement. As well as having to vigorously encourage Jensen to eat; Jeff'd had to ensure that Jensen consumed at least two shakes a day which contained healthy proteins, vitamins and supplements. Unpleasant tasting shakes that Jensen had hated with a fiery passion.  
  
It wasn't until Jeff had sat Jensen on his lap, both of them bare chested - a long story that involved a pissed Jensen and a flying milkshake - that Jeff had discovered a perfect way to settle Jensen down and persuade him to drink. It was almost magical the way the skin on skin contact had affected the omega. He'd calmed almost instantly, suckled contentedly at the straw pressed to his lips and snuggled against Jeff as though it was the most natural thing in the world.  
  
It had been the start of a twice-daily routine that had continued even after Jensen no longer required the supplements. The time spent pressed together chest to chest, hearts beating side by side was invaluable, incredibly special. The first night that Jensen sought Jeff out, slipping quietly into his bed and drifting off to sleep huddled against him was one of the most amazing moments of Jeff's life.  
  
  
Jeff's never had this much naked Jensen pressed against him though and he's finding it impossible to relax. He's lying rigidly on his back with Jensen beside him. Jensen's arm is stretched across his chest, his leg winding in between Jeff's and he's nuzzling into the sensitive skin below Jeff's ear. Jeff is too scared to move. The tempting scent of his mate, the sound of his warm breaths so close to his ear, all of that deliciously soft skin touching his in so many places is almost too much to bear. His dick is firming up inside his shorts and Jeff is helpless to stop it. Jensen's fingers trail lightly over the defined muscles of Jeff's chest and his knee pushes against the inside of Jeff's thigh. It feels as though electric charges are zipping through every nerve in his body. His lack of outward response though is apparently unacceptable to Jensen who huffs out an unhappy snort and abruptly turns his back on his alpha.  
  
Before Jeff can sigh in relief, Jensen reaches back and grabs Jeff's arm, pulling it over himself as though Jeff has no control over his own body. Giving up resistance, Jeff turns on his side, tucks Jensen against his chest and buries his nose in the silky mop of hair in front of him.  
  
He is however, making very sure to keep his hips pushed back far enough that his erection is nowhere near the curve of Jensen's ass. It’s not exactly a comfortable position and his spine twinges unhappily in protest. His equally disgruntled mate has an obstinate streak as wide as the Grand Canyon. He wriggles backwards until he's plastered against Jeff's front, all the way down to where his feet are tangled around Jeff's ankles. Jeff's dick presses against the swell of his ass; twitching and filling until it's rock hard. There's no way that Jensen can't feel it. The freak out that Jeff anticipates never materializes though. Jensen snuggles backwards, rubbing his ass against Jeff's dick until there has to be precome leaking through Jeff's shorts then he kisses the inside of Jeff's wrist, lets out a contented sigh and goes lax, breathing deeply and apparently drifting off to sleep. Jeff is left with a neglected hard-on stiff enough to make his eyes water and the very confused thought that Jensen is trying in very own Jensen-like manner to tell him something.

 

                                                        
  
  
Green tea sprays across the tablecloth much to Jeff's mortification and a glare of disapproval from the elderly woman seated at the next table. Recovering his composure rather too late, he picks up a linen napkin and pats at his mouth while Jared and Genevieve sit across from him giggling like a pair of school-kids.  
  
"He does not want me to f-” Jeff glances surreptitiously at the occupants of the next table, " - to mate with him."  
  
"Of course he does." Gen's face is alight with glee and Jared is gazing at her as though she's the center of the universe. Even Jeff has to admit it's sweet to see a couple so much in love. "He couldn't make it more obvious unless he stripped naked, got on all fours and wrote _'fuck me'_ on his ass."  
  
"Gen!" Jared admonishes, but his shoulders are shaking with laughter and Jeff can't hide a small grin as the woman at the next table splutters and sends a mouthful of cookie crumbs flying in her dining companions' direction.  
  
"Perhaps you could phrase that more delicately." Jared tries but Gen merely snorts in response. Genevieve, a delicate beauty of an omega, has little compunction to follow society's expectations. She's ballsier, louder and more hot-headed than half the alphas Jeff knows. Jared, on the other hand, is incredibly laid back. He's easy going, good natured and rarely has a bad word to say about anyone. Jeff, however, has witnessed him knock a man unconscious for making insulting comments about his mate so underestimating him while easy to do, is extremely foolish.  
  
"Jensen doesn't know what he wants." Jeff tries to argue. It was probably a mistake to ask Jared and Gen for their opinions on Jensen's recent behaviour but not only are they good friends, they're also the finest example of a mated pair that Jeff knows and he'd hoped they'd have some staid advice. He didn't think that the advice from a very modern omega's point of view, would be to just fuck the boy already. "He's still recovering from months, maybe years of abuse. How could he possibly want me to mate him."  
  
Flicking her long dark hair out of her face, Genevieve pins Jeff with an unusually serious look. "He loves you, you oblivious idiot."  
  
"How can you know that? He still won't even talk to me."  
  
Genevieve looks like she wants hit Jeff over the head with the wooden pepper grinder. "It's obvious, Jeff. He looks at you as though you're the sun and the moon and the stars combined. He glows when you look at him. Practically purrs when you touch him. You're his alpha. He needs you, he wants you."  
  
"But I don't want to hurt him. He's still so fragile and confused. He's -"  
  
"He's strong and knows his own mind. He's made that perfectly clear, even without words. Jeez Jeff, for someone so critical of chauvinistic alpha knot-heads you're doing a good impression of one. Jensen is not a child. Yes he's been through some horrendous shit, yes you need to take care of him but you also need to listen to him."  
  
"He doesn't - "  
  
Gen's eyes narrow dangerously.”I swear to all that is sacred, if you tell me he doesn't speak, I will poke this fork - "  
  
"Genevieve!" Jared intercedes quickly, barely flinching at all when she turns her death-stare towards him.  
  
"I think what my sweet talking ball of fluff...ow...joking... I was joking Gen." Jared covertly rubs his bruised ankle under the table. "I think what my better half is trying to say, is that even we can see how much Jensen wants you and if you ignore all the signals he's broadcasting, you're going to end up hurting him."  
  
"But... but- “ Jeff is running out of buts. ”You really think he's ready?"  
  
"Gods, Jeff! You know him better than anyone. You know he's trying to tell you he's ready; you're being a chicken-shit."  
  
Jared lays his hand on Gen's arm either to calm her or restrain her but she shakes it off impatiently. "No Jared, if you aren't gonna say it I am. I understand why you're scared but if you leave it too long to claim him, he's going to think you don't want him. He's going to think you're rejecting him and he's going to presume it's because of what happened to him, what that bastard did to him. He'll blame himself and any progress that you've made with him will vanish."  
  
A low rumble of a growl builds up in Jeff's chest at the mention of the alpha who fucked his mate but Genevieve pays it no heed at all. "He needs his mate to claim him. He needs you to stop being just his caregiver and start being his alpha."  
  
"I am his alpha." Jeff snaps.  
  
"Then prove it," Genevieve snarls back.  
  
"Okay guys, lets all calm down." Jared's low drawl interrupts the battle brewing between the other two. "Gen, you know Jeff is doing what he thinks is best for Jensen, and you know the only reason he hasn't claimed him yet is because he's worried and if you'd seen Jensen when we first found him you'd understand why. Give the guy a break okay."  
  
"Fine," Genevieve huffs, sits back, crosses her arms and scowls in Jeff's direction.  
  
"Jeff, listen to Gen. She knows how important it is for an omega to have that claiming mark from their alpha. To have the mating bond completed. Do you know how lucky you are to have found your mate? Gods, I think it's like only ten percent of the alpha population that are in a relationship with their true mate these days. What with fewer omega's supposedly being born, never mind all the asshole's who still think it’s okay to treat omegas like a tradable commodity."  
  
Jared pauses, swipes his bangs away from his face and takes a breath to calm himself down. He and Gen are energetic and outspoken campaigners for omega's rights and vociferously passionate in their quest to stop the abuse of omegas, which had been terrifyingly commonplace up until very recently. "Jeff, the odds against an alpha finding their true omega, their soul-mate are huge. It's not cruel to claim him. It's cruel to dismiss his desire to be claimed."  
  
"I know, I know." Jeff sighs and slumps back in his chair, willing the tension rippling through his shoulders away. "I know you're right. You're both right." He glances in Genevieve's direction briefly dipping his head in a small sign of apology. "It's just hard to believe that after everything he's suffered, Jensen could possibly want me even half as much as I want him. I do want to claim him, I'm just... shit, I'm just terrified of losing him altogether."  
  
"You won't, Jeff. I promise you won't." Genevieve eyes are burning fierce with conviction. "He loves you. He wants you. You would never hurt him. Have faith in your instincts, in your bond. Mating him, claiming him, is only going to make him stronger, healthier. Going to make the relationship between you both stronger. Once you've claimed him, nothing - no-one - will be able to separate you ever again."

 

                                                         
  
  
It's late by the time Jeff finally arrives home. Lunch with Jared and Gen had lasted far longer than he'd anticipated which'd had a knock-on effect to the rest of his day. Being the C.E.O. of the company might have plenty of bonuses but leaving at the strike of five isn't one of them and the paperwork he'd had to power through before he could leave the office had seemed never ending. On the plus side, it's Friday and there are only a few papers in his briefcase needing his attention before Monday so he can happily spend most of his weekend with Jensen.  
  
The low murmur of the television is the only sound to greet Jeff as he walks through the darkened house. He passes through the kitchen first, throws his suit jacket over the back of a chair, loosens and removes his tie, unbuttons the top button of his shirt with no little sense of relief. He grabs a cold beer from the fridge for himself and one of the sweet fruity cartons of juice that Jensen has developed a taste for, switches off the oven, not caring much for the drying remains of dinner shrivelling away in the casserole dish. Cheered at least though, that Jensen appears to have cooked - or rather reheated - and hopefully eaten something himself without needing to be cajoled.  
  
The sight that greets him in the living room brings a smile to his face and a warm tingle to his belly. Curled up on the sofa, Jensen is wearing one of Jeff's old wash-worn hoodies pulled up high over the tip of his nose. His eyelids are flickering, fighting to stay open. When he hears Jeff come in, his eyes snap open and his whole face lights up with the strength of his smile. Jeff's legs falter under the power of that adoring look.  
  
He doesn't even make it across the room to the sofa before Jensen jumps up and launches into his arms.  
  
"Unf," Jeff gasps, the breath knocked from his lungs as Jensen's wraps himself around him. Hands clasp around his neck and legs wind around Jeff's hips. Jensen may be on the scrawny side but he's surprisingly tall for an omega and not exactly a featherweight. Jeff's back creaks in complaint as Jensen clings to him like a limpet but his dick is highly delighted; perking up at the delicious heat of Jensen pressed tight against him.  
  
"Hey baby, guess you're glad to see me huh?" Jeff says, staggering towards the sofa. "How about you let me put down these drinks so we can relax."  
  
Jensen slides down Jeff's body until he's standing on his own feet but only long enough to allow Jeff to set the drinks on the side table and sit down then he clambers onto his lap, straddles him, tugging at Jeff's shirt trying to untuck it from his pants. Jeff stills his hands, pressing them gently back against his stomach.  
  
"No, Jensen... just wait a minute."  
  
Jensen freezes, his top teeth clamp down hard enough on his bottom lip to make Jeff wince. Eyes wide and scared, he tries to yank his hands out of Jeff's loose grip and back away, nearly overbalancing and toppling backwards.  
  
Jeff tightens his hold on Jensen's hands, preventing him from wriggling away. "No! No, sweetheart. I just want to talk for a minute. Please baby, please don't run away. I want to cuddle with you, I do, I swear but we need to talk first. Just for a minute."  
  
Jensen settles on Jeff's lap, wary and tense but not trying to run. It's as good as Jeff can hope for.  
  
"So, I know you heard the doctor talking about me claiming you the other day. You did, didn't you?"  
  
Jensen looks at Jeff with intelligent green eyes that don't even blink in acknowledgement of the question. Jeff tries not to sigh, reigns in any brewing frustration. "You're not going to make this easy for me are you, sweetheart?"  
  
Not even a damn twitch. Heavens help them all should Jensen ever take up poker; he'd make an absolute killing. Jensen sits perfectly still, impassive face not giving anything away, waiting for Jeff to say something, eyes never leaving his face. Shit, Jeff doesn't know how to do this, how to approach the subject. He's never been one for subtlety or beating about the bush and fears it's too late to start now.  
  
"I want to claim you. I want to show the whole world that you're my omega, my mate, my love. I want everyone to know that our bond is unbreakable. I want to knot you and mark you where everyone will see. I want to make you mine."  
  
A pale pink flush spreads across Jensen's face obscuring the freckles on his cheeks, but his eyes stay laser focused on Jeff's.  
  
"I will never intentionally hurt you," Jeff continues. "I promise I won't. I don't ever want to do anything to cause you pain or fear but sometimes a claiming can be, well... rough. An alpha's instinct to claim his mate - his soulmate especially - is primal, it runs deeps and wild. It's not an easy urge to control. I'll try my very best to reign in my feral side I swear, but I might... it's possible that... I can't promise - “ Jeff shakes his head, trying to shuffle the words in his mind into some kind of comprehensible order.  
  
"Jensen, it won't be gentle. _I_ won't be gentle, not the first time and I can't... I can't do that to you, not unless you can tell me that you want it too. That you understand and you want to be mine, wear my mark. Want to be with me forever. That you love me. If you don't that’s... that's fine, I mean I'll understand obviously, you've been hurt and I -”  
  
The protracted ramble that Jeff's embarking on is cut gloriously short when Jensen's lips press firmly against his. Silencing him sweetly. Jensen's lips push insistently at his until Jeff relaxes into the kiss, willingly participating but still allowing Jensen to maintain control. Licking and nibbling at Jeff's mouth, confidence and fervour building rapidly, his tongue venturing past Jeff's teeth, darting against Jeff's tongue until the taste of his omega floods his mouth, sparking every primordial alpha sense in his body.  
  
An un-alpha-like whine of disappointment escapes Jeff as he unsuccessfully chases after Jensen's mouth when he draws back. The sight of Jensen's flushed face, moss green eyes dark with desire, the soft flesh of his lips red and enflamed, has Jeff's dick thickening and twitching against his underwear. Jensen shakes his hands free of Jeff's, tears frantically at Jeff's shirt, hauls it out of his suit pants. Shirt-buttons fly, scatter through the air in every direction. Jeff couldn't care less. He's entranced by the needy desperation in his mate's every move. Jensen drags Jeff's undershirt up, groaning in frustration and nearly throttling Jeff as he scrambles to pull it over the alpha's head and Jeff ends up having to untangle the white cotton shirt knotted around his neck.  
  
His breath catches in the back of his throat as Jensen's hands roam over his chest. Fingertips rub against his nipples, scratch through the dark hair curled on his chest, over the the slight roundness of his stomach. They dip into his navel, brush lightly over his sides and Jeff flinches at the elicited tickling sensations that skitter up his spine. Jensen's fingers never stop moving, mapping out every dip, every curve, every inch of skin they can reach.  
  
Jeff's hands slip under Jensen's hoodie seeking out contact with butter-soft warm skin. His grip around Jensen's narrow waist growing tighter as every touch from his omega drives him closer and closer towards the edge of control.  
  
Jensen's mouth latches on to the base of Jeff's throat, sucking what promises to be a mottled bruise deep into his flesh. He's writhes in Jeff's lap, shamelessly rubs himself against the prominent bulge that's pressing painfully against Jeff's zipper now. His fingers grasp Jeff's hair, twisting into dark waves, yanking his head backwards as he licks over his mark of intent branded into the alpha's throat. Jeff loses his last tenuous strand of control.  
  
With a burst of speed and strength he was unaware he possessed, Jeff stands up, holds Jensen securely in his arms and lurches towards his bedroom. His mouth seeks out Jensen's, desperate noises pealing from them both as he blindly stumbles through the house. Unwilling to let go of his omega or to lose the rich taste of his lips despite the difficulties it causes on the short journey; he doesn't let go of the boy until he reaches his bedroom. He all but throws Jensen on to the firm mattress of his bed, Jensen bouncing up to meet him as Jeff looms overhead.  
  
"Last chance to back out, Jensen. If you don't want this, tell me now. Show me now. I'll stop and walk away if you want me to." The words nearly hurt to say, would definitely hurt to follow through on but Jeff will do it if he has to.  
  
Jensen moves so fast, he's almost a blur before Jeff's eyes, strips off the hoodie and running pants he's wearing leaving him completely breath-takingly naked. Lies back on the bed, proudly displaying himself for his alpha. Not a single sign of nerves or uncertainty visible. It's enough of an answer for Jeff.  
  
He quickly shucks off his own remaining clothes and clambers on to the bed. This time, the alpha buried not too far down demands that he's the one in control. He pins Jensen's wrists over his head, holds him steady as he slowly devours every inch of skin he can reach. His tongue licks patterns over the light brown peaks of Jensen's nipples until they form hard little buds. He presses his lips to every faint freckle he finds dusted over Jensen's slim frame, licks and kisses them till his mate's skin is glistening pink and wet. Jeff wants to tease, wants to spend hours exploring Jensen's body, wants to bring him to the edge of ecstasy so many times that he screams in need but his blood is pumping to his dick so hard, he fears he's going to lose the ability to think clearly very shortly.  
  
Releasing his grip on Jensen's wrists, Jeff dips his head to Jensen's straining cock and with a deep breath inhales the tantalizing scent of his mate's arousal. In one swift movement, he sucks down his omega's cock and simultaneously flicks his tongue out to lick at the seam of his balls. Jensen bucks up underneath him, his cock leaking in Jeff's mouth as much as an omega's is able. Gods, it’s like nectar to Jeff; sweet as wildflower honey. Suddenly thankful that an omega's genitals, as well as being as being silky smooth, utterly hairless and pretty as sin, are small and delicate compared to an alpha's or even a beta's, Jeff opens his mouth wide and the next time Jensen's hips thrust upwards, he swallows down the omega's cock until it hits the back of his throat and his mouth is filled with the boy's tight little balls. A high pitched whine immediately soars through the air, music to Jeff's ears as Jensen's cock spills down his throat. Jeff sucks the boy through his orgasm, licks his cock clean of the every delectable sticky drop of his release. Doesn't stop until Jensen is wriggling below him, his perfect little cock already filling again despite how sensitive it must be under Jeff's ministrations.  
  
"Sweetheart," Jeff's voice is hoarse, throat rough and used. "You're delicious. Never tasted anything so sweet in my life. Gods, I think you might be addictive. Need more though. Need you now. Turn over for me, baby... please."  
  
Jensen goes willingly, eager even though he's wrung out from his orgasm. Pressure starts to build at the base of Jeff's cock at the sight of his mate's pale upturned ass. Jensen has pulled his knees under him, head down, arms stretched out. Presenting himself to his alpha to perfection. Silvery marks of faded scars are scattered across Jensen's back and the fury Jeff feels at the sight of them now burns just as bright as the first time he saw them. He pushes down the anger, lets desire and love replace it until he is consumed with the need to push into his mates body, fill him up, claim him. First though, he wants to taste.  
  
Grabbing Jensen's hips he pulls the boy's ass up even higher, ducks his head down to meet it. Inhales the seductive scent of his mate's slick dripping from his hole and feels his alpha bursting through all his restraints. Flicking his tongue out, he licks up the steady stream of slick meandering down the inside of Jensen's thigh, chases it up to the source. His tongue stabs in that tight hole. Hot and luscious. Heavenly. He licks, laps and swirls his tongue in his omega's asshole until it's loose and wet with more than his natural slick and Jensen is writhing on the bed below him, fingers clawing holes through the fine cotton sheets. He can't wait any longer. His cock is leaking, drooling at the sight, taste, sound of his mate so desperate to be claimed. Squeezes the base of his cock, tries to delay the swelling of his knot. Pushes into his Jensen. His mate. Jensen's body opens up, enthusiastically welcomes Jeff's cock. The heat, the pressure is overwhelming.  
  
All Jeff can think about is claiming his omega. Marking Jensen as his in every way possible. Folding his body over Jensen's smaller frame bent below him, he thrusts into his mate, hips snapping fast, furious, no finesse, no rhythm, just slamming in savagely again and again until his knot grows, swelling, catching inside the rim of Jensen's hole. His omega clamps around his knot trapping his cock inside him fiercely, possessively. Finally, they're tied together.  
  
Jeff howls as he shoots inside his mates body, feels his cock pulsing, sending load after load of come deep into his omega. Jensen throws his head to the side, bares his long milky white throat to his alpha. Submits wholly. The alpha inside of Jeff, consumes him completely, rages victoriously. His teeth clamp down viciously on the omega's neck, just below his ear. He bites down ferociously through skin and flesh until blood seeps into his mouth, coats his teeth, his tongue, drips down his chin and his alpha is satisfied, sated. The omega is owned. Claimed. Marked inside and out. It's exhilarating.  
  
Until it's not.  
  
Until it’s just Jeff covered in Jensen's blood. His mate lying still below him, pinned under Jeff's heavy weight. Even as he pushes himself up on his hands, eases his weight off Jensen's body, he can't stop himself from licking over the weeping wound on Jensen's neck.  
  
They're still tied. Jeff's dick buried deep inside Jensen. The omega's hole spasming; instinctually squeezing every last drop of come out of Jeff's cock. They'll be joined now until Jensen's body has milked Jeff dry. Natures way of ensuring an omega's chances of conceiving are as high as possible, even if that scenario doesn't apply in this case.  
  
Jeff rolls on to his side, gently moving Jensen with him. Jensen is quiet, as always, body lax and pliant. Jeff can't see his eyes. Feels blind and dumb without that clear window to Jensen's emotions. He doesn't know if Jensen is catatonic with fear, terrified of Jeff, or if he's flying high on the endorphins cascading through his blood stream. He doesn't know whether he's traumatized Jensen, irrevocably damaged their frail bond or if he's fulfilled his omega's inherent need to be claimed, soothed the itch to belong that's buried deep under Jensen's skin.  
  
"Jensen?" Jeff barely recognises his own gravelly voice. His throat is raw, feels like someone has taken sandpaper to it. "Sweetheart, are you okay? Did I hurt you? Jensen, please can you say something, do something. I need to know, baby, please..."  
  
Jensen reaches back, presses his fingers over Jeff's lips, not very gently. Then he slips his fingers through Jeffs, drags their entwined hands down to the hard jut of his cock, sticky and twitching. He rocks his ass back, his hole clenching around Jeff's cock then pushes his cock forward into their joined hands. A strained whimper escapes from his lips. Taking the hint, Jeff closes his fingers around his mates stiff little cock forming a tight fist for him to fuck into. Minutes later, Jensen spills over Jeff's hand, his ass clamps down hard around Jeff's dick, squeezing almost painfully around his knot. Jensen brings Jeff's hand, wet and tacky with the evidence of his own release to his lips and nearly sends Jeff insane with the filthy eroticism of it when he laps the pearly fluid up. Sucks Jeff's fingers into his mouth one by one, tongue swirling around each digit, licking warm paths over his palm until every trace of come is gone. Then he twists his head around, without a thought to the still seeping bite mark etched in his neck and gives Jeff the dirtiest hottest kiss, he's ever experienced. Jeff doesn't think he's going to be able to pull his knot free of Jensen ever again.  


**Chapter Two**  
  
"It's about time I must say." Jeff's mother blatantly eyes the healing bite mark spread across Jensen's neck.  
  
Jeff can't look at it without feeling warring emotions of pride, love and soul-sucking guilt. The mark is unmissable; not discreet, nor subtle. He didn't just mark Jensen as his, he screamed it out loud to the whole world. Not that Jensen seems to mind. In the past few weeks since their mating night, Jeff has often found him in front of a mirror, tracing his fingertips over the vivid red impression of Jeff's teeth branded into his neck. An almost smug expression tugging his lips upwards.  
  
"I'm glad you approve, Mother." Jeff replies dryly, filling the ridiculously tiny glass he's holding right to the brim with dry sherry. Maybe if he can get her drunk, her tongue will lose its barbed edge.  
  
"Well, he's not exactly the mate I would have preferred to see you attached to," his mother says, accepting the proffered crystal sherry glass. "But nature cannot be argued with, can it?"  
  
His mother would give it a damn good try though, Jeff suspects.  
  
"Do you think your mating was successful?"  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Jeff thinks it's pretty damn obvious by the mark on Jensen's neck and the fact that the boy attaches himself to Jeff's side as soon as he sits back down on the sofa, that their mating was a success.  
  
"Is he showing any sign of being with child?"  
  
"No, mother, no! We aren't having children. Jensen ca - I don't want them."  
  
His mother sips at her sherry, her eyes narrowing. "Jeffrey, don't be silly. You can't possibly let the Morgan name die with you. You must have children. Isn't that the benefit of an omega; their bodies - even the males - carry children so much easier than a beta's. I had such a difficult time with you, Jeffrey, you know. My poor body just couldn't cope with the stress of pregnancy. I had hoped that if you had to be saddled with an omega, at least you would have a large family to show for it."  
  
Jeff grits his teeth, tries very hard to remember that his mother is the product of an older, deeply bigoted generation. That her views are antiquated and irrelevant. "Mother, I am not saddled with Jensen. I love him. Please don't talk about him like that."  
  
"It's not as if the boy cares, he's as dumb as Uncle Sebastian's albino cat."  
  
"One more comment like that and I'll show you the door, mother." Jeff thinks, not for the first time, that his father had the right idea when he popped to the grocery store for a packet of Marlboro's one night and forgot to come home. "Jensen is not deaf and he's not stupid. He'll speak when he's ready and I doubt very much that will be when you are anywhere near him."  
  
He watches his mother's face turn an ugly shade of purple with a small degree of satisfaction. "That boy is having an unfortunate effect on you, Jeffrey." Setting her glass down, she scoops her leather purse onto her knee, digs into it until she eventually produces a lace-edged linen handkerchief.  
  
Ah, a change of tactic then.  
  
"I'm sorry if I offended you. I only want to see you happy. I'm not getting any younger you know and I had hoped to see my grandchildren before the Gods ended my time here with you." She dabs at non-existent tears. "Still, if you have decided that children and family are unimportant then I'm sure that it's for a good reason. I'll say no more about it, not bother you again."  
  
If only, thinks Jeff, scraping his fingers through his hair, wonders idly how many grey hairs his mother has just caused.  
  
"Mother, children just aren't a possibility for me and Jensen. You know he was terribly abused when I found him; his injuries have left him infertile." He hadn't planned on sharing this information with anyone let alone his mother, but it's either that or listen to her rhapsodise about grand-children until her dying day.  
  
Jensen shifts uneasily on the sofa beside him and Jeff tucks him in closer to his side, ignoring his mother's look of disdain.  
  
"That's... that's certainly unfortunate. Are you positive?"  
  
Jeff simply nods, not wanting to divulge any details of the terrible internal injuries that Jensen suffered or the multiple surgeries needed to repair the damage.  
  
"Hmm, have you thought about taking a mistress? I hear it's perfectly acceptably when your mate is deficient." It takes a moment for the true horror of that question to hit Jeff. His mother’s words spoken as easily as though she had asked if he’d considered drinking tea rather than coffee.  
  
Jensen tenses at precisely the same time as Jeff, although more than likely for entirely different reasons.  
  
"Mother, if you suggest that Jensen is anything other than perfect once more, I will make damn sure you see neither of us ever again."  
  
"Jeffrey!" His mother has the audacity to sound shocked.  
  
"No, I've had enough. Jensen is my soul-mate. I love him. I will never bed anyone other than Jensen and I will not have anyone, not even you, insult him. If I have to choose between Jensen and a child of my own, I choose Jensen. If I have to choose between Jensen and you, I choose Jensen. Unhesitatingly. Without any shadow of doubt."  
  
His mother hisses in a stunned breath and fans herself with her handkerchief, no doubt wishing she could squeeze out a few tears of distress. Jeff ignores her.  
  
Eventually stilted small talk breaks the uneasy silence that settles over them but Jeff isn't remotely sorry when a short time later his mother makes her excuses and leaves. He's even less sorry when, with a wicked grin, Jensen celebrates her exit by immediately stripping naked and dragging Jeff to the bedroom, wiping any remaining thoughts of his mother clear from his head.

 

                                                       
  
       
As the days and weeks pass, the bond between the pair of them grows infinitely stronger as does Jensen.  
  
More and more frequently, his eyes spark with laughter and his face lights up with stunning smiles that set Jeff's heart racing. Gradually, not only does he eat without Jeff nagging him, he also attempts to cook for himself. Granted, he nearly sets the kitchen curtains alight the first time he attempts to toast bread but still Jeff can't be mad when Jensen looks up at him with a black smudge smeared across his nose and his shirt soaked through from the pan of water he threw at the smouldering curtains. The resulting sex on the kitchen floor is well worth the awkward journey to the living room afterwards. Jensen firmly impaled on Jeff's knot, both of them laughing as they bounce off the walls in their journey towards the comfort of the sofa to wait out the separation of their coupled bodies.  
  
Jensen is hardly recognisable as the terrified omega that Jeff brought home over a year ago. The frightening nightmares that plagued him nearly every night, leaving him a terrified shivering wreck, have thankfully become more of an rarity rather than a regular occurrence. The last time he felt the need to hide in Jeff's closet was after Jeff broke the news that his mother intended to visit for the weekend. In all honesty, Jeff didn't blame him, was highly tempted just to join him.  
  
He's not exactly a social butterfly. Still usually prefers Jeff's quiet company in front of the television or curling up by the fire to nights out at the movies or the theater. He does enjoy spending time with Jared and Gen; seems rather in awe of Gen's feisty character and raucous laugh and is surprisingly relaxed around Jared despite his towering alpha physique. Jeff wonders if on some level Jensen remembers that Jared was there the night that Jeff found him, helped Jeff rescue him from the heavy iron coffin of a dumpster. Maybe it's just Jared's laid back temperament and obvious devotion to Genevieve that puts Jensen at ease. Certainly, none of Jeff’s other friends have succeeded in winning him over so far. Jeff doesn't mind. Jensen's flourished so amazingly in such a short space of time that Jeff has nothing but admiration and respect for him.  
  
Watching Jensen bloom with nothing more than a little love and care is like witnessing a minor miracle. If Jensen never wants to venture further than Jeff's side, Jeff wouldn't be disappointed. He does still live in hope that one day, his mate finds the courage to talk to him. He celebrates every sigh, every whimper and gasp that escapes Jensen's lips. Rejoices when he screams in ecstasy as Jeff's knot binds them together and treasures every moan of pleasure as Jensen's cock spurts his release, but he would love Jensen to break through whatever barrier is holding him back from speaking.  
  
All in all, Jeff and Jensen are wonderfully happy. Life is good. Pretty much perfect.  
  
Naturally, as soon as Jeff takes the time to recognize that, his perfect little world implodes.  
  
It starts simply. Jensen is sick.  
  
They're having breakfast. Jeff absent-mindedly eating buttered toast while skimming through the newspaper - a report of a riot breaking out during a peaceful omega rights rally catches his eye: he hopes Jared and Gen weren't involved - Jensen wanders into the kitchen barefoot, wearing one of Jeff's old t-shirts and a pair of boxers that barely covers the curve of his ass-cheeks. He picks up Jeff's cup and refills it from the coffee pot before filling his own mug. As usual, he adds two heaped teaspoons of sugar and a generous helping of milk before taking his first sip.  
  
Jeff pretends to read his paper, doesn't want Jensen to know he's watching - which admittedly sounds slightly like he's stepping over the line into stalkerish territory - but the temptation to observe Jensen inhale the rich scent of arabica beans, exhale in drowsy contentment, lick his lips in anticipation, and then moan in ecstasy as the first sip of coffee slides down his throat is far too great to resist. He's only human after all. So he witnesses first-hand the blood drain from Jensen's face. A grey-green tinge spreading over his cheeks. It happens so quickly, it takes a moment for Jeff to react. Jensen is quicker. He claps his hands over his mouth and barrels from the room.  
  
Feet catching up eventually with his brain, Jeff dashes after him, following the sound of retching to the nearest bathroom.  
  
“How are you doing, sweetheart?" Jeff crouches down to where Jensen is kneeling on the floor, hands clasped around the bowl of the toilet, taking deep shuddering breaths. Jeff's stomach lurches at the putrid stench of vomit filling the small room and tries not to breathe in through his nose. Puking his own breakfast up into the sink is unlikely to help settle Jensen's stomach any.  
  
Jensen doesn't attempt to respond to Jeff in any way, instead he heaves again and again. And again. He doesn't stop until yellow bile hits the back of the toilet. Jeff rubs comforting circles across his back while attempting not to breathe, watch or listen to Jensen attempting to expel his stomach-lining. Eventually his mate goes several minutes without retching and Jeff helps him up from the floor, wipes down and flushes the toilet while Jensen rinses his mouth out and splashes cold water over his face.  
  
"Back to bed for you, I think. Looks like you've picked up that bug that's doing the rounds. It's a nasty one. It even knocked Jared off his feet for a couple of days and he's as healthy as an ox."  
  
Jeff tries to usher Jensen straight to bed, but Jensen shrugs off his guiding hand and bolts straight to their bathroom where he proceeds to retch for a further ten minutes. Jeff is concerned he's going to puke up a lung at the rate he's going. Finally, the stomach-churning sound of vomiting comes to an end. Jensen doesn't reappear until he's brushed his teeth, stripped off his shorts and t-shirt, both damp with sweat, and washed himself down. Jeff hands him an old pair of pajamas to slip on when he finally stumbles into the bedroom.  
  
He tucks his poorly omega into bed, studiously ignoring Jensen rolling his eyes as he does so. By the time he fetches a basin, hand-towel and a glass of water, placing them beside the bed, Jensen has at least regained some color although he looks completely wiped out.  
  
"I'm going to call the office and tell them I'm not coming in today," Jeff says running his fingers through Jensen's hair, smoothing down angry spikes.  
  
Jensen shakes his head and wriggles down further in the bed, burying himself under the duvet.  
  
"I'm not leaving you, Jensen, not when you're ill." Jeff is adamant.  
  
Jensen shakes his head again and shuts his eyes.  
  
"I know you're just going to sleep but I want to be here if you need me."  
  
A half open eye and a raised eyebrow is Jensen's response to that.  
  
"No, I don't care what you say, I'm not going anywhere." It really should be easier to argue with someone who doesn't speak.  
  
The duvet shrugs along with Jensen's shoulders and he lets out a bizarre noise that sounds like a cross between a steam train and a congested pig but Jeff presumes is supposed to be a snore.  
  
He flicks the top of Jensen's ear, which is about the only part of the boy showing. "You're a smart-ass even when you're sick aren't you? Okay, I'll hang around for an hour or so and if you're okay I'll head into the office for a while."  
  
Jensen's face reappears from the folds of the duvet and he gifts Jeff with a glimpse of glassy green eyes and a sleepy smile.  
  
Bending down, Jeff brushes his lips against Jensen's forehead, relieved to discover that he isn't any warmer than normal. At least he isn't running a fever. That’s eases Jeff’s concern slightly.  
  
True to his word, Jeff eventually goes to work for a few hours and when he returns, Jensen is in much better spirits. Out of bed, dressed and playing with an old deck of cards he must have rooted out of a drawer somewhere. He's a bit listless, a bit pale; doesn't manage to eat much for the rest of the day. Jeff can't say he blames him after the terrible state he was in earlier, his stomach is more than likely still pretty unsettled. Jeff feels queasy himself at the memory of it. He assumes, with no little relief, that Jensen has fought off the worst of whatever bug made him so terribly sick.  
  
He hasn't.  
  
Four days later and Jeff is worried. He's lost count of how often he's found Jensen on his knees beside the toilet, heaving up whatever food Jeff's persuaded him to eat. Which isn't much. The only reason he hasn't already whisked Jensen off to the health center is Jensen's lack of a fever. That and the obstinate expression Jensen adopts whenever Jeff mentions it.  
  
Enough is enough though. Today started off fine. Jensen managed to keep down a cup of weak green tea and a slice of dry toast. He'd even tolerated the chicken soup and bread roll that Jeff had heated up at lunch time but when they sat down to dinner, Jensen had sprinted to the nearest toilet before Jeff even set the grilled fish on the table. Tomorrow he and Jensen are paying the doctor a visit, Jensen's pout be damned.  
  
  
  
Jeff is sure he misheard the doctor. There is no other explanation.  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"I said your omega - Jensen - is pregnant, Mr Morgan."  
  
"There must be some mistake."  
  
"I assure you I've double checked. The urine test confirms what the physical examination suggested. I'll receive the blood test back tomorrow, but I am certain that it will be positive."  
  
Unbelievable. It's unbelievable. The doctor has to be mistaken. It can't be true.  
  
A whimper from Jensen pulls Jeff from his silent shock, only then does he realize the reassuring hold he had of Jensen's hand has turned into a vice-like grip, grinding the bones in the boy's fingers together. He instantly drops Jensen's hand, looks at his own as though it doesn't belong to him.  
  
"I understand this must come as a shock to you both but -"  
  
"You! You told me... I asked you if he could get pregnant and you said no." Shock mutates into anger.  
  
Doctor Roché holds his hands up, palms facing Jeff, in order either to placate or concede culpability and he looks decidedly grateful that there is a desk separating him from Jeff and Jensen. "I said it was unlikely."  
  
Jeff's face must display his fury at that because the doctor hurriedly continues.  
  
"In fact, I do recall saying the chances were minute. I don't believe I was wrong but sometimes these miracles do happen. Nature's ways can be mysterious."  
  
"I don't understand. You said his body was too damaged to conceive. The injuries he suffered, all those surgeries; how is this possible?"  
  
"It's certainly unexpected but I believe our focus now should be on how to manage this pregnancy."  
  
Manage the pregnancy! Gods, Jeff needs a second or an hour or two, possibly several days to digest the news and come to terms with the fact there is a pregnancy first.  
  
"What do you mean, manage it?"  
  
"As you are aware, Jensen's been through a lot. It's only sixteen months since he first entered our care and his body has barely recovered from the numerous surgeries he needed after the serious injuries he suffered. If we'd thought it was possible for him to conceive, we would have advised against it right now."  
  
Every muscle in Jeff's body tenses, feels like he's about to burst out of his skin. He needs no reminder of how much Jensen suffered before Jeff found him. He and Jensen live with the evidence of it every day.  
  
The doctor continues. "Although he somehow managed to conceive, there is no guarantee that his body will be able to successfully cope with the pregnancy. This will be classed as a high risk pregnancy."  
  
"I don't... I don't understand." Jeff grabs on to Jensen's hand again, searching for an anchor, fears the ground is eroding, washing away under his feet.  
  
"Mr Morgan, it's possible that Jensen may not be able to carry the baby to term and even if he does, the risk of parental or infant death during childbirth could be notably increased."  
  
"Are you telling me that Jensen might die?" Surely not, because no man could possibly sound so calm and matter-of-fact dispatching that news to an alpha.  
  
"I'm telling you that it's a possibility that needs to be taken into consideration."  
  
"Consideration?"  
  
"Consideration when deciding whether to continue with the pregnancy or terminate."  
  
"Terminate?"  
  
Jeff can only parrot the doctor's words mechanically, his tongue heavy and swollen in his dry mouth. It's a struggle to form a rational thought; his head feels as though it's submerged in syrup.  
  
"Termination of the pregnancy is one of the options available. With the higher risk of fatality for the foetus and your omega it's something you should both give careful thought to."  
  
Jeff just wants everything to stop for a minute. Wants to catch his breath, process the information firing at him. Wants the world to stop turning just for a moment, please.  
  
Turning his head, he looks at Jensen for the first time since the doctor broke the news. His face is pasty white, lacking any color or expression. He's sitting frozen in the chair beside Jeff, body unnaturally still, lifeless. His blank gaze is fixed on where Jeff is holding his hand. Jeff doesn't even know if he's taking in anything Doctor Roché is saying. This decision, he thinks, is one he's taking. Jensen is in no shape to cope with any of this.  
  
"What exactly would a termination involve?"  
  
"Well, before nine weeks gestation there is a pill that when taken will induce miscarriage. It would be the safest way to abort the pregnancy for Jensen, definitely preferable to surgery. I estimate that Jensen is around seven weeks pregnant now but an ultra-sound scan will tell us for sure."  
  
"And there would be no risk to Jensen?"  
  
"There is always a risk of side-effects or complication with any medication or procedure," the doctor hedges. His caution about risks, however small, coming slightly too late for Jeff's liking. "However, I believe the risks are negligible."  
  
"I want that then."  
  
"Mr Morgan?"  
  
"I want to terminate the pregnancy now." Jeff can't be any clearer than that.  
  
"There isn't that much of a rush to decide, Mr Morgan and while strictly speaking legally you do still have the right to make these decisions, it would be unusual to do so now a days without the omega's consent."  
  
"My omega is mute. He can't consent. He doesn't communicate therefore I can and have made the decision."  
  
Jeff hears the sharp intake of breath Jensen takes, ignores it and the way Jensen's hand goes rigid in his.  
  
By the concerned look that the doctor's shooting Jensen, he apparently noticed the omega's reaction too. His gaze hardens as he turns to face Jeff. "I understand that this situation is upsetting and obviously you want to protect Jensen but this is a huge decision and I really don't think it's one that you should make without Jensen's consent. There's such a solid bond between the pair of you, it would be awful if anything damaged that. Maybe we could just take a few days to investigate all the options before you make a final decision."  
  
There is nothing to decide. No question. No options. Jeff will not lose Jensen. Will not endanger his life for a small mass of cells that isn't even a foetus yet. He needs no time to think, contemplate or figure out risk percentages.  
  
"Give him the pill."  
  
The doctor picks up his pen, nervously taps it against his fingers. "I can't do that Mr Morgan."  
  
It's only Jensen sitting incredibly quietly beside him that stops Jeff from grabbing the man by the neck, hauling him across the desk and ripping his pathetic throat out.  
  
"Why not?" Jeff growls the words so loud, he can see the hairs on the doctor's arms stand to attention.  
  
"We..ah... we need to confirm the exact stage of Jensen's pregnancy with an ultra sound and it's always a... a good idea to talk to a specialist first. Someone that can answer any questions you might have."  
  
The doctor's usual unflappable demeanour is in tatters as the man stumbles over his words anxiously and Jeff suspects that he wants him to talk to a specialist just to get them out of his office.  
  
"So organize it then."  
  
"Certainly. The soonest I can do that will be for tomorrow though. You understand it's too late today to arrange an appointment with - "  
  
"Fine!" Jeff all but roars, standing up and dragging Jensen to his feet with him. "Call and confirm the time, but we damn well better go home tomorrow with this... this matter resolved."  
  
  
  
A wall seems to have risen up between Jeff and Jensen. Invisible, undetectable but impenetrable. If it didn't sound utterly ridiculous, even in his own head, Jeff would say that Jensen isn't talking to him. He isn't hiding away or burrowing under piles of clothes in a dark corner but he has completely shut his alpha out.  
  
Since making the painfully silent and strained journey back home from the health center, since Jensen yanked his clammy hand out of Jeff's the second they left the doctor’s office; Jensen hasn't looked in Jeff's direction once. Hasn't sought comfort in his touch. Hasn't even stepped within arms width of him.  
  
Jeff's head is buzzing, too many thoughts fighting for dominance and he desperately wants to ignore them all. He takes to the kitchen, seeks refuge in the regular routine of preparing dinner. Concentrates fully on washing and peeling, chopping and cooking.  
  
All the while, Jensen sits perched on the edge of the sofa in the living room. Arms crossed, mouth in a thin downturned line. Spine ramrod straight. Refuses to budge even when Jeff calls him through to the kitchen to eat.  
  
It's a dangerous game for the omega to play. After that horror story of a day, Jeff is a towering mass of tinder just waiting for a spark to set him alight. It's not the time for anyone, not even Jensen to test his patience.  
  
"Jensen, come and eat your dinner. Or at least attempt to."  
  
It's like conversing with a mannequin. Absolutely no reaction.  
  
Jeff stalks right up until he's toe to toe with his mate. Looks down at his sullen expression. "I'm not asking, Jensen, I'm telling you to get your ass in the kitchen and eat your damn dinner."  
  
With a turn of speed that has Jeff staggering back a step, Jensen jumps to his feet, stormy green eyes practically glowing and teeth bared in the closest thing to a snarl Jeff has ever witnessed. For a minute he thinks he's in danger of the omega attacking him. The air in the room seems to vibrate, static electric humming around them. The fine hairs on the back of his neck tingle and a drop of sweat beads at his hairline. His heartbeat thunders, pounds in his ears.  
  
Then to Jeff's surprise Jensen takes off, storms past him towards the kitchen, leaving Jeff helpless to do anything other than follow in his wake. Stopping abruptly by the kitchen table, Jensen picks up the plate of food laid waiting for him and turns to face his alpha. Jeff watches unbelieving, as in one deliberate, spiteful act, he raises the plate as high as his chin then hurls it towards the floor. China smashes, white slivers bounce high, scattering across the kitchen with spatters of ruined food. Jensen stares unblinking at Jeff. Doesn't run. Holds his ground. Dares him to retaliate.  
  
If Jeff had to guess, he'd say Jensen is demonstrating just how effectively he can communicate. Point graphically proven.  
  
"You're mad at me. I get it. But I'm not changing my mind so having a tantrum isn't going to help. Now, help me clean this mess up." Jeff can play hardball too. Is more than in the mood to.  
  
Jensen twists back round to the table, lifts Jeff's plate piled high with grilled chicken and vegetables, turns and faces Jeff. Eyes burning bright with fury. Bright splotches of scarlet high on his cheeks.  
  
"Don't you dare, Jensen. I'm warning you."  
  
The plate smashes to the ground, shatters into sharp shards before Jeff finishes his sentence.  
  
They stare at each other silently, each waiting for the other to react. It's the first time that Jensen has ever faced up to Jeff. Usually by now he'd be running and hiding, burying himself somewhere dark and quiet. Jeff has never seen Jensen mad enough to stare him down, not like this. His timid, silent little omega looks ready to rip off his head. Tough luck, Jeff isn't in the mood to tolerate this shit.  
  
"You're going to pick up this mess, boy!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Don't say no to - “Jeff yells, and then... stutters to a shocked halt; gawks open mouthed at Jensen. He'd think he hallucinated that word but out of all the times he'd imagined finally hearing Jensen's voice it was never as that low gravelly rasp.  
  
"Did you just... Jensen you spoke."  
  
Jensen glares at him, stony eyed and pissed. Then it hits Jeff, that of all the words he'd dreamed of hearing Jensen say, 'no' was the last one he wanted to hear and the first that Jensen had felt the need to say. His breath leaves him in a painful rush like he's been punched in the gut. He steps back until he feels the lip of the kitchen sink behind him, is grateful for the support at his back.  
  
"Jensen?"  
  
Jensen huffs out an open-mouthed breath, rubs his throat, starts to speak. A dry croak comes out and he massages his throat once more, barks out a dry cough. Tries again.  
  
"You," he manages voice hoarse and quiet, not much louder than a whisper. "I thought you were different, but you're just like them."  
  
"Like who?" Jeff's voice isn't much louder.  
  
"Asshole alphas." Jensen sneers, the look he shoots at Jeff making something vital in his chest splinter. "Control, you want to control me." Jensen continues in his low husky tones. "Said you loved me and I believed you. Loved you, trusted you."  
  
"I do love you, Jensen. You know I do. I'd do anything for you."  
  
"Like kill my baby."  
  
"Like save your life."  
  
"Mute. Dumb. Stupid. Too stupid to make a decision."  
  
"No, Jensen no. I never said you were stupid. I just... I won't risk losing you. You can't cope with a pregnancy. Your body can't cope."  
  
"My choice."  
  
"No, it's not."  
  
Jensen nods. "Asshole alpha just the same as the others."  
  
He doesn't wait for Jeff to come up with a response, simply turns his back and walks away. It's a long time before Jeff can peel himself away from the support of the sink.  
  
He's fucked up. Really fucked up and he doesn't know how to fix it because there's no way he's letting Jensen kill himself for something that isn't even a baby yet, but he doesn't think Jensen is ever going to forgive him.  
  
Jeff doesn't talk to Jensen again the rest of the night. For the first time in weeks, months, Jensen doesn't come to his... to their bed. Jeff pokes his head into Jensen's old room and sees the back of his head on his pillow, turned away from the door, duvet drawn up tight round his neck covering him from view. Maybe it's for the best. A good night's sleep and time to think is what they both need. Things are bound to look better in the morning.  
  
Only in the morning Jensen is gone.

 

                                                     

  
Jeff doesn't even realize until nearly eleven in the morning that Jensen is missing.  
  
It's a slate gray, utterly miserable day. Opening the bedroom curtains to the steady beat of rain blowing against the window, Jeff can't help but feel the weather is a fair reflection of his mood.  
  
He didn't sleep well at all. Despite feeling emotionally and physically drained, exhausted beyond words, he tossed and turned all night. The day’s events ran through his head on a continual loop like some kind of living nightmare. Sleep determinedly evaded him, staunchly refusing to give him any respite. The more he was forced to think about it, the more he knew he was wrong. Not with wanting Jensen to have an abortion, he still whole-heatedly believes that's the right thing to do, but he’d reacted so badly, treated Jensen horrendously. He feels sick and embarrassed just thinking about it.  
  
No wonder Jensen thinks he's an asshole. All those times, Jeff ran his mouth off about alpha's that treated omega's like lower-class citizens, or children or worst of all possessions and when it came down to it, when Jeff felt backed into a corner, he did the exact same thing. Instead of treating Jensen as an equal, as his partner, he took the decisions out of his hands and treated him more like chattel than his mate. He's disgusted with himself.  
  
By the time he makes it down to the kitchen for breakfast, limbs heavy and head throbbing with lack of sleep, it’s already past nine and yet there’s no sign of Jensen. More than likely he’s still sound asleep. Jeff certainly wouldn’t grudge the omega a lie-in; the previous day’s events surely knocked him on his ass as much as they did Jeff and in all honesty, he isn’t looking forward to facing his mate. It’s going to take a damn site more than gentle touches and a soothing tone of voice to regain Jensen’s trust this time.  
  
He's able to keep himself busy for half the morning. Phones his office, informs them he taking a few days off, or a few days at home anyway. Searches for everything relating to omega pregnancy - especially high risk ones - and abortion on the Internet. Some of the images that pop up make him wish he hadn't bothered but only confirm his belief that Jensen shouldn't continue with this pregnancy. Eventually though, he admits that he needs to wake his mate. Not facing this problem isn't helping and they have an appointment at three o'clock for Jensen's ultra-sound scan.  
  
Opening Jensen's bedroom door he expects to see his mate still hidden from view under his duvet but the bed is empty, covers thrown back. Jeff actually feels the blood drain from his face, the room swaying out of focus around him as he realizes Jensen isn't there.  
  
He takes several unsteady steps towards the bed, throws the covers on the floor as though Jensen is somehow hiding where they’re piled on the edge. Falling to his knees, he looks under the bed. It wouldn't be the first time he's hidden there but not this time. Desperately, he hauls everything out of the bedroom closet praying to find him in a ball at the back. He doesn't.  
  
In a panic, he rips apart the house. Checks and double checks every hiding place, every odd corner in which Jensen has ever built a weird little den, anywhere that Jensen could possibly be, then every nook and cranny where he couldn't possibly be. Even as he's running through his house, rummaging through closets, searching under and behind every bit of furniture, he knows, deep down, he knows Jensen is gone.  
  
Eventually he stops, hunched down on his hands and knees after checking inside the oven, drops his head in his hands and howls. He doesn't move for what feels like hours, frozen in heart-hammering fear.  
  
It's probably only thirty minutes since Jeff discovered Jensen's bed empty but it feels like days. Feels like he's aged years by the time the ability to think anywhere near clearly slowly trickles back. He walks back up to Jensen's room on shaking legs, feels like he's wearing cement boots. He looks around properly at the mess of Jensen's clothes and belongings jumbled on the floor then does the same in his own room and down the stairs. Other than his sneakers and the thin cotton jacket that was hanging by the front door, Jensen appears to have taken nothing with him.  
  
Jeff doesn't know what that means; whether he should be relieved or more worried. Obviously, Jensen hasn't masterminded a grand plan to leave Jeff. It looks more like he just took fright and ran. Which is a worrying thought. Jeff might feel better if the boy'd had a plan. The thought of him running aimlessly through the night, scared and alone is chilling.  
  
He has to decide what to do next. If he calls the police, Jensen could end up in a lot of trouble. Despite the slowly growing advancements in omega rights and reforms, many of the old laws remain in place. There can still be serious consequences for an omega that runs away from their mated alpha. It’s ridiculously archaic but politicians are remarkably slow when it comes to reversing centuries old laws, especially when those politicians are mainly alphas of a certain grey-haired, set in their way generation. It just needs a bigoted policeman and judge - and there are plenty of the old-school knot-head disciplinarians still around, many of them with a chip on their shoulder and a point to prove - and Jensen could end up in a world of trouble... and pain. That's something to avoid at all costs.  
  
Where does he start to look for Jensen though? It's not as if the boy ever leaves the house on his own, has any favorite places to visit. Jeff's heard there are shelters that omegas can go to if they are in fear of their lives, if they're maltreated or abandoned. He doubts Jensen is aware they exist though, never mind where they are. He has no family that Jeff knows of to run to. No friends. Well, he has Jared and Gen but they live miles away; practically across the other side of the city and Jeff doubts that Jensen would have a clue of how to get there. They might however, at least have an idea of what Jeff should do next.  
  
Jeff scrambles to find the phone and with trembling hands keys in Jared's number.  
  
"Hello." It's Jared who answers and Jeff calms just slightly at the sound of his friend's voice.  
  
"Jared, it's Jeff. Listen, I need some help. Jensen... Jensen's gone and I don't know... I don't know what to do."  
  
"What do you mean gone?" Jared asks, not sounding as concerned as Jeff would have expected.  
  
"He's just gone. Taken off. He must have run off during the night."  
  
"What did you do?"  
  
"What?" That's not the reaction he was expecting.  
  
"What did you do?" Jared enunciates every syllable as though talking to an imbecile. "Jensen wouldn't run off for no reason so what did you do?" Jared's tone is so cold Jeff half expects icicles to crystallise on the phone.  
  
"I... I screwed up, Jared," Jeff admits. "I really screwed up and I don't know if he'll ever forgive me and I... I don't blame him but I need to find him. The thought of him out there all on his own... Gods, if something happens to him, I'll never forgive myself."  
  
Jared sighs heavily on the other end of the line and Jeff feels like throwing the phone against the wall in frustration because he doesn't know what the hell that's supposed to mean. "Jared, please if you know something tell me. I need to know he's okay."  
  
"He's here." Jared finally admits.  
  
"What? Why didn't you say so? Why didn't you call me?"  
  
"Because he didn't want us to." Jared's tone discourages Jeff from further argument.  
  
"Can I come over? Just to talk to him. Please."  
  
Jared sighs again and Jeff can imagine him running his fingers through his messy tangle of waves, the way he always does when he's stressed.  
  
"Please, Jared." Jeff begs desperately.  
  
"Fine," Jared eventually capitulates not sounding particularly happy about it. "But don't expect a warm welcome. Genevieve wants to rip your balls off right now and I'm not too sure I want to stop her."  
  
Jared slams down the phone and Jeff's left staring at it, ears ringing, nausea rolling in his guts, crawling its way up to the back of his throat.  
  
  
  
Cold droplets of rain sneak past the collar of Jeff's jacket and slither down his back as he nervously rings the doorbell of Jared's brick-faced townhouse. As normal, his two dogs bark up a riot and as normal as soon as he's invited - grudgingly - in the door they jump all over him, wet noses butting against his hands. Jared however, isn't his normal friendly self. He takes Jeff's wet jacket but barely grunts a hello before leading him through to the sitting room, shutting the dogs out. There's no sign of Jensen but Genevieve is standing, hands on her hips looking like fury personified. She might be petite, barely reaching Jeff's shoulder on tiptoes, but right at this moment, Jeff would be a fool not to fear for his safety.  
  
He doesn't sit down and he's not invited to.  
  
"You bastard." Gen's speaking quietly and frankly that's more terrifying than if she was yelling.  
  
"Can I see Jensen, please?" Jeff says polite and calm, ignoring the cold waves of anger directed at him. He suspects he knows the answer, especially by the way Genevieve and Jared are standing together, forming a united force against him.  
  
"No," they answer in perfect unison. Any other time, they might all laugh at that doublemint twin moment but not now.  
  
"I need to talk to him, please." Jeff tries again, desperation colouring his voice and no doubt his face too.  
  
"I told Jensen, he'd be safe here. That I'd protect him, so no I don't think you get to talk to him yet." Jared says.  
  
"I'm his alpha, he doesn't need to be protected from me."  
  
Jared looks unimpressed. "This is my house and he came here for our help so I think that’s my decision."  
  
"Will you let me explain at least?"  
  
"Explain what?" Gen asks, throwing her hands in the air. "Explain how you decided that Jensen should have an abortion without even asking him? Explain how you told the doctor he wasn't capable of making his own decisions? Explain how, as soon as it suited you, you turned into one of those alpha's you've spent so many hours ranting about? Campaigning against with us?"  
  
Well, that answers the question of whether or not Jensen managed to tell them everything. It sounds like he's spoken more words to Gen than he has to Jeff. One more thing to add the list of things that Jeff deservedly feels guilty about.  
  
"Gen, I know I was a dick okay. I can't believe how I acted yesterday, if I could go back and change it, I would."  
  
"Really?" Gen raises an eyebrow, tosses her long hair back over her shoulder. "You expect us to believe that. That you can change your mind so quickly."  
  
That's a bit tricky because while Jeff does deeply regret his actions yesterday, he hasn't changed his mind about the pregnancy.  
  
"I love Jensen, Gen. You know how much I love him. I never meant to hurt him and it's killing me that I did."  
  
He glances at Jared standing beside his mate and he thinks - although it's possibly wishful thinking - that the other alpha has softened his stance just slightly. Doesn't look quite so much like he wants to dangle Jeff out of the top-floor window by his tongue.  
  
"Killing you?" Genevieve says sceptically crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, it sure took you long enough to notice your beloved omega had disappeared didn't it? To start looking for him. We found him on our doorstep hours ago. Soaked to the skin, freezing cold, in tears, vomit down the front of his shirt, shivering and terrified."  
  
Okay, she's yelling now and actually that is scarier. Not as scary as the picture she's painting of the state Jensen was in though.  
  
"I swear I looked for him as soon as I realized he was gone. I was giving him space Gen. I thought I was doing the right thing."  
  
"I think you're full of shit," Gen spits back at him.  
  
"Gen." To his surprise Jared intervenes on his behalf. "Maybe we should hear him out, give him a chance."  
  
Genevieve flicks an annoyed glance at her mate. "Like how he gave Jensen a chance to have a say in whether he killed his baby or not."  
  
"Please, Genevieve. This isn't really helping Jensen any."  
  
Genevieve closes her mouth, stopped abruptly on the cusp of lambasting Jeff further. Folding her arms across her chest, she glares at Jeff, hostile and unforgiving.  
  
"I was scared and I panicked," Jeff starts. "I was in shock. I'm sure Jensen was too." He adds hurriedly when it looks as though Gen is about ready to knee him. "To hear that he was pregnant was traumatic enough but when the doctor said it might kill him, I damn well panicked. All I could think was that I couldn't lose Jensen. He is my soul-mate, the other half of me and even the thought of him d...d...dyi... it's just... I couldn't... I can't. I was a bastard, you're right. What I did is unforgivable; I should never have suggested that Jensen didn't have a choice, that he was incapable of making a decision but fuck Gen... What was I supposed to do? What would you have done, Jared?"

  
"I would have talked to Gen and told her how I felt. I would support her and listen to her and decide with her what to do and whatever it was, I would be by her side the whole way."  
  
That all sounds wonderfully perfectly reasonable Jeff thinks ruefully, but unfortunately he wasn't exactly in a reasonable or rational state of mind at the time. "Yeah, that would be the decent thing to do, you're right. I guess you're a better man than me 'cause I know, I just _know_ , that Jensen will do anything to have this baby and I can't stand by and watch him die and I sure as hell can't care for a child that killed him."  
  
Genevieve shakes her head at him with a look of disappointment now rather than the fierce anger of a few minutes ago. "Don't you think you should have told him all that, how you felt, what you were thinking instead of - "  
  
"Of being an asshole?" Jeff finishes for her. "Obviously now I do, but yesterday I wasn't exactly thinking straight."  
  
"What a fucking mess," Jared declares. Gen nods and Jeff wholeheartedly agrees.  
  
The silence stretches out filling the space between them.  
  
"You can tell me how you feel now." A husky voice says quietly from behind Jeff.  
  
Jeff spins around and there's Jensen, standing with one hand against the doorframe and another spread protectively over his stomach. He looks so young, almost childlike; green eyes huge in his drawn pale face, slender body swamped by loose clothes that are miles too big for him. The long sleeves of his knitted sweater trail down to his fingertips and even with the bottom of his pants haphazardly folded up, they're scraping across the ground so that Jeff can't even see his toes. Jared's clothes! Jeff suddenly realizes like a slap to the face that Jensen is wearing Jared's clothes and that's just wrong. His mate shouldn’t be wearing another alpha's clothes, shouldn't have the scent of another alpha rubbing against his skin. Jared's scent is winding around Jensen, replacing any lingering trace of Jeff's.  
  
Jeff fights down his base alpha response, which is to rip the offending clothes off his omega's back, reaffirm his claim on his mate. It's not a reaction he's proud of, but natural instincts are incredibly difficult to control at times. Especially times like these when Jeff is half out of his mind with worry and guilt. Jared must know exactly what this is doing to Jeff: how hard he's fighting to stay in control.  
  
"You don't have to talk to him, Jensen." Jared says, walking towards the omega and placing himself in-between the mated pair. He gives Jeff a speculative look as if to gauge the alpha's response to his actions and possibly to Jensen's state of dress.  
  
Jeff says nothing. Does nothing. He's done and said more than enough in the past twenty-four hours, now it's Jensen's turn.  
  
"It's okay," Jensen says, gaze flicking to Jared before zeroing back in on Jeff with an intensity that makes his thighs tremble. "We need to talk."  
  
Jared nods, looks at Jeff meaningfully. "We'll be right outside."  
  
Genevieve stalks from the room behind Jared, patting Jensen reassuringly on his arm and giving Jeff a devastatingly vicious look that makes his balls cower in fear.  
  
"Do you want to sit down?" Jeff asks, not liking the almost grey pallor of Jensen's skin or the way his hand shakes when he loosens his grip of the doorframe.  
  
Jensen just nods, makes his way to the nearest chair, giving Jeff as wide a berth as possible.  
  
Jeff sits opposite him, hands clasped between his knees, trying to look as contrite as he feels. "I'm sorry," he starts in the most obvious way. "I should never have acted the way I did yesterday. You're right; I am an asshole. It was unforgivable."  
  
"Do you want me to get rid of this baby?"  
  
Oh Gods! Why does Jensen have to ask the hardest question first? "Jensen..." Jeff pleads, knowing he can't answer the question the way that Jensen wants him to.  
  
"You do." Jensen leans forward, looking set to leave. This discussion is over in his eyes.  
  
It hits Jeff then that if he doesn't bend, doesn't change his attitude, he's going to lose Jensen completely. One way or another, his mate will leave him. "Wait! Wait, Jensen. Just let me explain. Please!"  
  
It takes a moment, but Jensen settles back on the chair. Not relaxed but listening.  
  
"I'm not going to lie to you; I don't want you to have this baby." He rushes on when Jensen's face pinches tight. "The thought of losing you is terrifying. What's inside of you isn't even a baby yet. It's not worth risking your life over, not for me. Nothing is. After everything you went through, the thought of your poor body suffering any more... it makes me... Gods, I don’t even know. It makes me angry, terrified, upset... it makes me want to rip apart the bastard that hurt you until there's nothing left of him."  
  
Jensen fidgets uncomfortably when Jeff's voice grows louder in anger.  
  
"But. I was wrong. This isn't my choice. I can't make this decision, as much as I want to. We are a partnership. Bonded forever. Soulmates. I am your alpha and you are my omega but I am not your master, your owner and most definitely not your father. I do not have the right to make your decisions. I love you, Jensen. I hope you can forgive me. I hope you decide not to carry on with this pregnancy but I will leave the decision up to you."  
  
"It's a miracle."  
  
Hearing Jensen speak is still strange. Wonderful but strange. He sounds hoarse, like the words are in danger of catching in his throat at any second but there is no hesitation or doubt in his voice.  
  
"This life inside of me is a miracle. This baby will be a fighter, be strong and I will not kill it. I can't kill something that is a part of you and me, of our love. I need to give it a chance to grow, to flourish."  
  
Jeff never expected anything different but still he has to try. "I understand how you feel, Jensen, or at least I'm trying to but this baby might kill you. The doctor said it might kill you."  
  
"It won't."  
  
Jensen sounds so damn sure. Jeff would love to believe him. He shakes his head. "You can't know that for sure. No-one can. Can we talk to the specialist first, see what the ultra-sound shows?”  
  
"Jeff, you just promised - "  
  
Jeff cuts him off. "I'll leave the final choice up to you, I promise but just... can we hear what the specialist has to say before you decide for sure."  
  
"I won't change my mind."  
  
Jeff believes him, but he's desperate to grab any chance - however remote - that Jensen might be persuaded to change his mind, see sense.  
  
"Okay, fine but we'll see what the doctor has to say together. Yes?"  
  
It's a long beat before Jensen agrees. "Yes, okay."  
  
"Thank you. Thank you. We should leave soon if we want to make it there on time. Do you - " It kills Jeff to ask but Jensen has no reason to trust him after the way he behaved yesterday. " ...do you want Gen or Jared to come with us? I understand if you don't feel safe with me any longer."  
  
Jensen rolls his eyes and it's almost a relief to see his old snarky Jensen resurface. He may have found his voice again but he doesn't always need it to tell Jeff when he's being idiotic.  
  
"I'm not scared of you. You were an asshole but you're not a liar."  
  
Jeff smiles wryly. That's a pretty fair statement. There is another small problem that he wishes he could just brush off but an itch is burning under his skin that's growing increasingly hard to ignore. "Jensen, I hate to bring this up. I really do, but your clothes. They're Jared's and his scent - "  
  
Jensen stands up and Jeff's stomach swoops, he's blown it.  
  
"My clothes were wet. They're in the dryer. I'll ask Gen for them."  
  
"Thank you," Jeff breathes out. "Thank you, Jensen." He hopes Jensen understands the full meaning behind those words. The very serious expression on his mate's face suggests he does.  
  
                                                                                                                        
                                                                           [](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/kiltsocks/45149321/5333/5333_original.jpg)                                     

 

  
**Chapter Three**  
  
"Sorry, Jenny, this may be a little cold," Dr Speight smirks a little, looking not at all apologetic as he squirts the cool gel onto Jensen's bared abdomen.  
  
"His name is Jensen," Jeff snarls, not for the first time, at the oddball little man that has somehow persuaded the world that he is some kind of genius doctor in omega pregnancies.  
  
"Oh come on, Jeffie, Jensen knows I'm teasing. He doesn't mind."  
  
Jensen actually giggles. Probably at the look on Jeff's face at being called Jeffie by the mouthy beta doctor. Jeff slumps back in his chair crossing his arms over his chest. He's attempting to look silently menacing but has an ominous feeling it looks more like he's pouting.  
  
Jensen won't hear a bad word said against Doctor - just call me Doctor Dick - Speight. He's been Jensen's doctor ever since their first visit to his office when Jeff was hoping that with some help from a sympathetic medical professional, Jensen could be persuaded to terminate the pregnancy.  
  
Doctor Richard - no, I will most certainly not call you Doctor Dick - Speight was not the right man for that job. He'd barely acknowledged Jeff's presence at first that day. He'd introduced himself to Jensen, examined him thoroughly and read through the thick wad of Jensen's medical notes. He'd smiled and joked, put a silently terrified Jensen at ease even when performing an internal ultra-sound that had Jeff clamping his thighs tightly together in sympathy. He'd been thorough and careful with Jensen and hadn't once been condescending, dismissive or patronizing. Cocky and arrogant; yes, but not condescending.  
  
He'd laid out the bare facts for them, looking at Jensen the entire time. Yes, the pregnancy was higher risk than normal; no, he wouldn't have advised them to try and conceive so soon after Jensen's recovery from such severe injuries; yes, there was a risk that scar tissue could cause complications; no, he would not advise that Jensen carry the pregnancy full term and yes, if he did there was a risk of complications if Jensen had a caesarean-section and possibly just a great a risk with natural delivery.  
  
Jeff had thought then, with no small sense of relief that the only option left was termination and by the devastated look on Jensen's face so had he. Doctor Speight had other ideas however.  
  
He'd clapped his hands together and grinned. Jeff and Jensen wore matching expressions of shock.  
  
Doctor Roché was apparently a touch pessimistic in his declarations of impending doom at the news of Jensen's pregnancy and while no... the pregnancy wasn't going to be a walk in the park, Doctor Speight was no quitter. He'd delivered more babies in more precarious situations than Jensen had had hot dinners. Jeff had been close to wanting that number verified because the number of hot dinners Jensen had eaten still wasn't overwhelming but the heel of Jensen's sneaker grinding down on his toe had shut him up before his mouth even opened. Jensen was young, resilient and growing fitter and healthier all the time. He was already nine weeks pregnant and the foetus was right where it was supposed to be, forming well and looking perfectly normal. If he wanted to have the baby then the doctor would do everything in his power to make that happen. The smile on Jensen's face at that news nearly broke Jeff's heart.  
  
Jeff's concerns for Jensen's health were understandable, Doctor Speight had carried on, making Jeff wonder exactly what Doctor Roché had told him because Jeff hadn't been given the opportunity to express concern about much of anything since he'd walked through the so-called specialist's office door. And, he'd continued, while he did sympathize and would completely understand and accommodate them if Jensen chose not to go ahead with the pregnancy, he would take a dim view at any sign of pressure from Jeff forcing Jensen to abort the foetus. Golden brown eyes bored into Jeff's then, staring the alpha down.  
  
Jeff knew, without a shadow of doubt, that the man was serious. Knew that underneath his eccentric and wisecracking exterior was an honourable man with a core of steel who would stand up for what was right, who wouldn't let a vulnerable omega be harmed, threatened or put at risk. His respect for Doctor Speight was cemented right at that moment.  
  
Respect? Yes. Jeff has that in spades. Doesn't mean that the man doesn't annoy him beyond words. In fact Doctor Speight appears to go out of his way to poke fun at Jeff, needling and baiting him until Jeff's face turns puce and Jensen is helpless with laughter.  
  
Jeff watches from his chair, the small television screen where ever changing black and white blurred images that make no sense to him are keeping Jensen absolutely enthralled. Doctor Speight keeps up a running commentary the entire time as he presses the trans- transponder... transformer... transducer... wand thing across Jensen stomach. Occasionally he stops, freezes the fuzzy image and points something out. A hand, an elbow, baby sucking it's thumb. Even Jeff can't help leaning forward, peering blindly at the screen trying to pick out what the doctor and Jensen are apparently seeing.  
  
"So baby's possibly a little on the small size for nineteen weeks but nothing to worry about." Doctor Speight says, "heartbeat’s nice and strong, everything's forming perfectly. The placenta is laying a little low but at this stage that's nothing to worry about; we'll just keep a close eye on it. Now for the big question. You want to know if baby Morgan is going to need pink or blue babygrows?"  
  
"What?" Jeff asks, cocking his head and squinting, distracted by what he thinks may be a hand waving at him from the screen or maybe it's foot, wait that is the head right, or is it a butt.  
  
"You want to know what colour to paint the nursery? What section of the baby names book to look at? What-“  
  
'Yes," says Jensen.  
  
"Huh?" says Jeff.  
  
"Do you want to know the gender of your child? Girl or boy?" Doctor Speight says with an eye roll worthy of Jensen.  
  
"No!" No, Jeff does not want to know. He's having a hard enough time coming to terms with the fact a tiny foetus that shouldn't exist is thriving happily inside his mates womb. He's not ready to know anything other than how much longer Jensen's body can cope with carrying it.  
  
"Yes," Jensen repeats adamantly. "I want to know. I want Jeff to know."  
  
Jensen is usually a man of few words. He's perfectly capable of conversation: is smart as a whip and just as stubborn and sarcastic as Jeff knew he would be. But after so long protecting himself with his shield of silence, he doesn't feel the need to fill every quiet moment with unimportant chatter. He talks when he needs to; to people he trusts; his doctor, Jared and Genevieve. Talks to Jeff easily most of the time, more often now than at first after Jeff's stupidity had sent him running. It had taken some time for Jensen to forgive him, for Jeff to regain his trust. Quite rightly so. Jeff is still delighted by any nugget of communication that Jensen throws his way, rewards every word spoken with his complete attention. Unsurprisingly, Jensen still won't talk to strangers. Not policemen, waiters or deliverymen. Definitely not Jeff's mother. Clams up instantaneously and for days on end if anyone dare mention his life pre-Jeff. The rarity of him speaking means that when he does talk everyone listens.  
  
"Jensen, I don't know if that's a good idea." Jeff argues gently.  
  
"I'm having this baby, Jeff. _Our_ baby. You need to get used to the idea now. I want to know." Jensen as usual is quietly determined and Jeff knows it's pointless to argue.  
  
"Fine," he looks at Doctor Speight who is sitting quietly for once. "Fine, okay. We want to know."  
  
"Okay then," the doctor smiles, toothy and a tad manically, points at the still image now captured on the small screen. "Baby Morgan here is a perfectly proportioned baby girl."  
  
"You're sure?" Jensen whispers, gazing intently at the image.  
  
"Yes, Jensen I'm sure. I'm going to print out a couple of pictures for you to take away and I'm sure you'll study them yourself but trust me, I've never been wrong yet and little Miss Morgan here isn't exactly bashful." The doctor wipes the sticky gel off Jensen's stomach with a tissue that he hands over to Jensen to finish the job for himself and untucks the small towel from the elastic waistband of Jensen's pants.  
  
"Okay, hop down when you're ready Jensen and we'll finish up for today."  
  
Jensen does as he's told, pulling his shirt down to cover the baby bump that's starting to show. It’s small but definitely visible now. He sits down next to Jeff as Doctor Speight washes his hands, picks up Jensen's notes and sits down on the edge of the examine table Jensen has just vacated.  
  
"So, no nausea or sickness for a few weeks now then?" He asks Jensen who shakes his head. "Heartburn? Indigestion? constipation?"  
  
Jensen flushes and shakes his head, still easily embarrassed by questions like this and Jeff places his hand over Jensen's reassuringly swiping his thumb over Jensen's knuckles.  
  
"Well, don't suffer in silence, Jensen. We can do something to help all those little annoyances that can make pregnancy uncomfortable. Are you feeling the baby move yet?"  
  
"Maybe? I'm not really sure. That's stupid isn't it." Jensen ducks his head away, self-confidence collapsing as easily as a house of cards.  
  
"No, it's not stupid. Give yourself a break, Jensen. Lots of first time parents aren't sure if they're feeling the baby move. Half the ones that are probably have gas; it doesn't feel much different. Give it a few weeks and you'll know for sure and maybe El Jefo there will be able to feel it too. That might put a smile on even old grumpy-pant's face."  
  
Jeff takes the higher ground, ignores the digs with long-suffering patience. Jensen sniggers beside him, self-doubts already forgotten. Sometimes Jeff doesn't know whether he wants to pop the smirk right off Doctor Speight's face or kiss him. No... no... on second thoughts, kissing is way off the menu.  
  
"So," the doctor continues. "How's your appetite? Still eating little and often? I know it helped with the sickness and it's not a bad idea especially if you still struggle to eat heavier meals."  
  
Jensen doesn't answer at all this time and the doctor looks to Jeff. Jensen's eating habits is the one subject that Jeff is permitted to have an input in. Or tell tales about as Jensen complains. "He's still not eating as much as you want. He does take the vitamins religiously but struggles to eat enough fruit and vegetables and it can be a fight to get him to eat any kind of protein."  
  
Doctor Speight pulls a pen from the pocket of his white coat and makes a note on Jensen's records, tsking to himself. When he looks back at Jensen, it's with no hint of his usual good humour. "Okay kiddo, I know after all the weeks of puking it's hard to get back on track with eating properly especially when you've had problems in the past, but you promised you'd do what I told you to give you and the baby the best possible chance here. Now, your little girl needs you to eat; the only way she gets the nutrients to grow strong and healthy is through you and if you're starving yourself, you aren't giving her what she needs and you sure aren't going to be strong enough to help her into this world."  
  
Jensen's eyes widen and shine with threatening tears. Jeff wants to wrap a comforting arm around him but he wants Jensen to listen to the severity of what the doctor is telling him more.  
  
"I'm trying." Jensen says, a lone tear spilling from his eye and trailing down his cheek.  
  
The doctor's stern facade crumbles immediately and he smiles, "Okay, I believe you. How about you try a little bit harder, let Jeff spoil you and feed you up and we'll see how your weight progresses over the next couple of weeks. If needs be, I can prescribe some protein shakes that might help."  
  
If possible Jensen's eyes widen even further. "No... no. I'll try harder. I promise."  
  
Jeff snorts and the doctor looks at him, eyebrow quirked, apparently puzzled by their reactions. "Jensen isn't a big fan of protein shakes, prefers wearing them to drinking them."  
  
"They're disgusting." Jensen pouts. The doctor and Jeff chuckle but Jeff doesn't disagree; they are pretty vile, certainly not something he'd voluntarily ingest.  
  
"Well, let's try and avoid them then, shall we?" Doctor Speight moves on quickly when a scowling Jensen, unimpressed at the doctor siding with Jeff for once, appears to be on the verge of sulking. "Any other problems? Aches and pains, mood swings, hormones going nuts? Any questions?"  
  
Jeff shakes his head, preparing to stand up and leave but Jensen bites his lip and looks between Jeff and Doctor Speight nervously.  
  
"Jensen, something you want to ask?" Doctor Speight sets his pen and the bundle of notes in his hand down beside him, clasps his hands together in his lap and swings his legs under the table.  
  
Jensen nods but doesn't follow up with any hint to help Jeff or the doctor out. Doctor Speight's attention switches to Jeff but Jeff shrugs in response to the silent question. He has no idea what's bothering his partner.  
  
"Sorry, Jensen, but my psychic powers seem to be on the fritz today. You're going to have to speak to me this time."  
  
Jensen nods and his eyes flip to Jeff again then back to the doctor.  
  
"You want to talk to me on your own? Jeff can wait outside if you want."  
  
Jeff is ready to leave if that's what Jensen wants. His feelings a bit hurt admittedly but he's a big boy, he'll get over it. As he's about to stand though, Jensen grabs his hand and shakes his head.  
  
Jeff and Doctor Speight sit back and wait until eventually Jensen mumbles. ''Is it safe for us to... to mate?"  
  
Oh! Well that explains Jensen's shyness. Jeff can feel his face heating up too.  
  
Doctor Speight however is unfazed. "Oh, intercourse. Of course. It's perfectly natural at this stage of the pregnancy to feel a heightened sense of libido. You've stopped feeling sick, your hormones are on the rampage, your body is usually more sensitive. When their bodies are changing so dramatically, some omegas like the reassurance and the sense of serenity that their alpha knotting them can bring. Apparently, orgasms for mated couples can be amazing during pregnancy, so I've heard. Anyway, many couples enjoy a very active sex life right up until the start of labor."  
  
"Is it safe for _us_ though?" Jensen persists despite his obvious embarrassment.  
  
Doctor Speight cocks his head and looks thoughtful. "I don't see why not, at the moment anyway. We're going to induce you at thirty-seven weeks as you know, and I wouldn't recommend having intercourse right up until that point. Not with your history and the possibility of complications but certainly it won't cause any problems for at least the next few weeks. No gymnastics mind you, no dangling off the light fittings or wild monkey sex but gentle sexual activity would be fine. Recommended even. Good question Jensen, well done. Now if that's everything, go forth and copulate and I'll see you in a fortnight. Oh hold on... just let me grab a couple of copies of your first photo of mini Morgan."  
  
They each leave the doctor’s office with a scarlet face and a blurry photo of their baby girl clutched in their sweaty hands.

 

                                                       

       
  
Looking incredibly pleased with himself, Jensen eats a whole bowl of chicken alfredo at dinner time, beaming happily at Jeff's approving gaze. He cleans up the dishes, humming happily to the low strains of a guitar strumming on the radio in the background as Jeff wraps the left-overs and puts them in the refrigerator.  
  
Jeff picks up his half-full glass of wine sitting on the table and presses a chaste kiss to Jensen's cheek. "I brought some paperwork home that I really need to catch up with. I'm going to take it through to my office. I'll blast through it as quick as I can, but I'm not sure how long I'll be so don't wait up. I'll try not to disturb you when I come to bed."  
  
He leaves Jensen with a one armed hug, turning a blind eye to the hurt confusion flashing across his face.  
  
Jeff isn't lying. Slipping out of the office during the day to go to Jensen's appointments with him has resulted in him bringing home more work than normal. Maybe it's not as urgent as Jeff is leading Jensen to believe but still, it's a valid reason for avoiding - no, not avoiding just... shit, who's he kidding. He's totally avoiding Jensen. He's a cowardly asshole obviously but he knows what Jensen has planned for tonight and there's no way he's fucking his mate. He knows Doctor Speight said it was safe but really, what does that eccentric quack know? How can it not be dangerous? Every day of this pregnancy already feels like one long perilous tightrope walk, why on earth throw in any added risks?  
  
Three hours later and Jeff has run out of legitimate paperwork. He's more than caught up with anything he missed and now he's playing patience on his laptop. At least he is until he glances up and catches sight of Jensen standing in the doorway. Thankfully Jensen can't see the screen from there.  
  
"You're playing computer games rather than spending time with me?"  
  
He can't see the computer screen, can he? Jeff flips the lid shut guiltily. "No baby, I'm working."  
  
"Don't lie to me Jeff, don't ever lie to me. I'm not dumb."  
  
"Sorry... I'm sorry, Jensen." This is in danger of going south very quickly. 'You're right I was slacking off for a minute but I have been working I promise."  
  
"You're avoiding me?" Jensen walks round Jeff's small office until he's at the same side of the solid antique desk as Jeff. Close up Jeff can see how puffy his face looks, green eyes sparkling too bright against the reddened flush of his face. His expression however is guarded, carefully blank and Jeff is struggling to read him. It's not a feeling he likes. Reminds him far too vividly of the scared omega from months ago that wouldn't let Jeff behind the solid walls of his defences.  
  
"No, Jensen. I'm not avoiding you."  
  
Jensen shoves a couple of open files lying on the desk to the side and perches on the edge of the desk facing Jeff. "You promised you wouldn't lie to me. That means never, not even little white lies to save my delicate feelings."  
  
Jeff takes a chance, rolls his chair slightly to the side so he's directly in front of Jensen and takes hold of his hands. It's a relief when Jensen doesn't flinch or shake off his touch. "You're right and again I'm sorry. I'm not trying to hurt you, Gods, that's the last thing I want, but I know what you want Jensen and I can't do it."  
  
"You can't come to bed with me?" Jensen's voice is surprisingly even.  
  
"I can't mate with you, Jensen. I'm sorry but I just can't."  
  
Tugging his hands free and setting them on his knees, Jensen nods his head, expression still frighteningly neutral. "I understand. Do you want me to move back into my old room?"  
  
"What? No! Why would I want that?" Jeff grabs hold of Jensen's hands again, unable to miss how badly they're trembling now.  
  
"Because I repulse you."  
  
"Because you what?"  
  
"My body, my pot belly, my swollen chest and puffy nipples. I'm unattractive now. Ugly!"  
  
"No! No... why would you even think that?" It's so far from the truth that Jeff can't get his head around it.  
  
"I'm not blind and I'm not an idiot. You never wanted to see me pregnant. You barely touch me anymore. You avoid coming to bed with me and even when you know you can - that it's safe, you'd rather hide away than have to touch me."  
  
Jeff stands, pushes away his chair and wraps his arms around Jensen, pulling his rigid body into an almost suffocatingly tight hug. "You're wrong, baby. You're so wrong. I'm sorry if that's what you think. You're gorgeous, more beautiful than ever. I've just been so scared. Scared of hurting you, of hurting the baby. Scared you didn't want me touching you when you were feeling so ill especially after the way I reacted to the pregnancy in the beginning."  
  
"So, I'm not ugly? You still want me?" Jensen asks, voice muffled against Jeff's chest.  
  
"Yes, yes I still want you. There will never be a day when I don't want you. I just... I'm terrified of losing you and I can't do anything that might put you at risk."  
  
Jensen relaxes fractionally against him, brings his hands up and around Jeff's back, returning Jeff's embrace at last. "Like make love to me?"  
  
"Yes," Jeff breathes out a heavy sigh, relieved that Jensen understands.  
  
"But Doctor Speight said it was safe. There is no risk."  
  
"Jensen, Doctor Speight can't possibly know that for sure."  
  
"You don't think he knows what he's doing? You're putting my life and our child's life in his hands when you don't trust him?"  
  
"No, of course I trust him. He's the best there is."  
  
"So what then? You know he would have said no if there was any risk. He won't even let me drink a cup of coffee and there's no proven risk in that, so he wouldn't encourage us to have sex unless he was positive that it wouldn't pose any problem."  
  
All these reasoned words pouring from Jensen have the adverse effect of tying Jeff's own tongue in knots. "Yes but -"  
  
"So, you just don't want to have sex. There's no point now because I'm already bearing your child. I didn't think you were that kind of alpha."  
  
Jeff clutches Jensen's shoulders, steps back, dips his head and holds Jensen at arms length enabling him to see the omega's face. "You know damn well that isn't true, Jensen."  
  
"So you don't find me attractive anymore then?"  
  
"I've already told you that I do." Jeff says, frustrated at Jensen's terrier like tenacity. "You're beautiful, your skin's soft and glowing, your body makes my mouth water and your scent is so intense now, it's like the goddamn nectar of the gods is wafting under my nose every time you're near. I have to keep my distance sometimes just to stop myself from ravaging you."  
  
A pleased smile creeps across Jensen's face as the confession falls from Jeff's lips. Why does he have the sneaking suspicion that this conversation is circling around to somewhere he never intended to go.  
  
Jensen leans forward, gently presses a tender kiss to Jeff's slack lips. Barely draws back as his honey tones curl into Jeff's ears, the words sending pulses of desire swirling through Jeff's body. "Then you have to know how much I want you. I need you. You have to scent that my body is craving yours. I need to feel loved, protected. Need to feel my alpha posses me. Own me. Please, Jeff, I can't control myself; the urge to get down on my knees for you is driving me insane."  
  
"Gods, Jensen. I don't want to hurt you." Jeff is pleading with the boy now. Jensen's desire - his aroma - is suddenly overpowering, intoxicating; Jeff feels woozy, punch drunk. He couldn't stop his body from reacting if he wanted to. He's tried so hard to control himself, reign in the urge to cover his mate in his scent, to lap and suck fresh bruises over the claiming mark etched into Jensen's neck and now Jensen is asking for Jeff to fuck him. Begging him. Jeff would defy any alpha to turn away from their mate when the urge to join their bodies runs bone deep. The only one with the power to stop this from going any further now, to slam the brakes on is Jensen.  
  
And Jensen has no compunction to do so. He pushes Jeff back down onto his chair, unbuckles the belt of his  alpha's pants, pops open the button, drags down the zip until the hard line of Jeff's erection is obvious, pushing desperately against the thin white cotton of his boxers. With wholly unexpected strength and speed, yanks Jeff's pants and underwear from under him, leaving them pooled awkwardly around his calves, belt buckle clanging against the floor and his butt sticking uncomfortably to the body-warm leather of his chair.  
  
Dropping to his knees, Jensen wastes no time, doesn’t fool around or tease. He just licks those dangerously plush lips before wrapping them around the thick erection twitching in anticipation in front of his face; sinks his mouth down until his nose presses against the dark curling hairs at the base of Jeff's dick and sweet gods above, Jeff didn't think that was even possible. Then somehow Jensen draws his cheeks together and sucks, and Jeff feels like every drop of blood circulating his body surges straight to his cock.  
  
Jensen doesn't hold Jeff in his throat long, can't without choking, instead he turns to licking and kissing his way up Jeff's shaft. Wet swirls and broad demanding swipes. Sucking the head into his mouth and tonguing the weeping slit, sucking down every drip of precome that seeps from his alpha's cock with whimpers of pleasure as Jeff groans and squirms below him. Jensen's fingers join in the fun, trail over Jeff's balls, feather light touches mingled with the sharp scratch of a nail followed by soothing kitten licks that have Jeff's toes curling in his socks. When Jensen stretches his mouth wide and swallows Jeff's dick down until it hits the back of his throat again, Jeff feels the heavy weight of orgasm build deep in his gut, his knot throbbing already, down at the root of his dick.  
  
With a final hum of pleasure that contracts his throat deliciously around Jeff's cock, Jensen pulls off leaving Jeff rock hard and panting. His blood red cock and full heavy balls glistening obscenely with a layer of saliva and pre-come. It takes a concerted effort for Jeff to unclench his eyes and focus his gaze and when he does, holy shit; his dick lurches at the sight in front of him. Jensen's lips are swollen and so violently red it looks as though they're smeared with lipstick. His mouth shines with spit, trails of it leaking down his chin. His green eyes are ablaze, alive, pinning Jeff with a look of raw hunger. He's a vivid picture of pure carnal sin.  
  
"Jensen, please. I need you... please." Jeff pleads. Jensen grins, strips off his clothes quickly, efficiently without any sense of self-consciousness. Neither should he have. He's glorious. Acres of creamy skin dusted with intricate patterns of freckles that seem to have turned from barely there sprinkles of golden sugar to rich drops of dark cocoa. His nipples are darker too, standing ripe and firm in mouth-watering peaks that Jeff aches to touch. The shapely curve of his belly, rarely noticeable under his baggy shirts protrudes obviously now and only accentuates how beautiful the omega's body is; the narrowness of his waist, the roundness of his ass, the lean muscles of his thighs and the delectable bow of his legs, the sweeping contours of his collar bone below the long majestic line of his neck. His neck proudly displaying the mark of Jeff's claiming.  
  
Jeff's nearly delirious with the need to be inside his mate; shudders wrack his body; his thighs shake. But this is Jensen's show and Jeff forces himself to remain seated, painfully hard and yearning and not too proud to beg. "Please baby, please."  
  
His mate doesn't leave him wanting for long. Sliding onto Jeff's lap, he straddles his legs across Jeff's thighs, catching their cocks together between their stomachs, the light friction torturous but wonderful as he mashes his mouth against Jeff's, passion and desire culminating in a violent collision of teeth, tongues and lips.  
  
Jeff can't keep his hands to himself any longer, not with all that sweet smelling soft skin pressed against him. He only wishes his shirt was on the floor instead of rucked up in between them. Gentle caresses and hesitant brushes turn into gripped hair and bruising fingertips when Jensen grinds his ass shamelessly against Jeff's lap, the nudge of his small cock rubbing against the underside of Jeff's heavy erection. His mouth only leaves Jeff's to nuzzle into the dip of his throat or lick at the shell of his ear, always drawn back like a honey-bee to lavender to the wet heat of Jeff's mouth.  
  
Jeff's lap is soaked; the heavenly scent of Jensen's slick is streaming from his hole, flowing steadily down the inside of Jeff's thighs. Jeff's never seen Jensen so wet and fuck if his cock isn't throbbing in approval.  
  
Jensen is more than ready for Jeff to push inside him. His body is crying out for Jeff's knot but when Jensen lifts himself up, reaches for Jeff's cock, holds it steady as he lowers himself down, Jeff freezes. Lust and need flipping straight to terror.  
  
"Jensen, no! I'll hurt you. No." Jeff grabs Jensen's forearms, holds him at bay, wants to push him off. Doesn't want to hurt him. Panic winds like a twisting tornado in his gut.  
  
"Shh... shh... Jeff it's okay... it's okay. I promise." Jensen dips his head and whispers like the calming sigh of a cool breeze in his ear. "Trust me."  
  
Jensen presses open mouthed kisses in a wet path down Jeff's neck and panic slowly ebbs away leaving a less urgent sense of desire in its wake. Jeff relaxes, lets Jensen take control again. Slowly, inch by inch, he sinks down onto Jeff's cock. Slick leaking copiously from his hole eases the way for both of them. No sign of pain, not a single twitch crosses Jensen's features. Fully seated he lets out a contented moan, his dick spills enough pre-come to coat it completely and his head swings back baring the vulnerable curve of his throat to Jeff's mouth. Jeff instinctually latches on, covering his claiming mark not with snarling teeth but with soft lips and moist breaths.  
  
It's not fucking. It's not fast and furious, not Jensen riding Jeff's dick like he's trying to break a wild stallion. It's not brutal, not dirty nor rough. It is beautiful. It's sensuous and sweet. It's Jensen swaying on Jeff's lap. Hips rolling, thighs flexing. Constant delicious motion. It's Jeff's thumbs brushing light circles across Jensen's sensitive nipples. It's Jensen's arched back and willing hole urging Jeff's knot to push through its rim. It's a slow rise of excitement. A meandering journey to the crest of pleasure rather than a race to the finish line. It's Jensen's body melding with Jeff's. Becoming one sinuous organism. When eventually the rush of orgasm races through them, Jensen and Jeff are beyond words, drenched in sweat, united in body, soul and spirit. It's not fucking. It's lovemaking like Jeff never knew existed. It's a goddamn religious experience.

 

                                                     
  
  
As the weeks slide by, Jeff's grim determination to remain detached from the pregnancy, to consider the life growing inside his mate's stomach as a life-threatening medical problem rather than a miraculous gift from the Gods, falls forgotten by the wayside.  
  
The grainy black and white scan image was the beginning of his downfall. Discovering that the tiny life magically taking shape inside of Jensen was a little girl only cemented the fact. The delight on Jensen's face when he felt with utter certainty the baby move inside him for the first time made Jeff's heart swell and the first time Jensen captured his hand and held it firmly against his rounded belly so Jeff could feel their baby girl somersault under his touch, Jeff cried. The hard-ass alpha inside of him, no doubt cringing at the pathetic soppiness of it all.  
  
  
Week twenty-eight of the pregnancy brings celebration and disappointment. Celebration because baby Morgan is now officially viable. She's still tiny and safest remaining exactly where she is for the next nine weeks but if disaster strikes and she's born now then her chances of survival are relatively good. It's a milestone they had all silently been anxious to reach.  
  
The disappointment affects Jeff, but it's predominantly his surprisingly horny little mate who reacts worst.  
  
"Are you sulking?" Jeff asks, mouth tilting in amusement. They are in the mall, grabbing a few last minute gifts for the winter solstice next week before making their way home after their latest appointment with Doctor Speight.  
  
"No," Jensen huffs, picking up a gaudy orange tie with green and red boughs of holly dotted across it. Jeff gently pries it from his fingers, he wouldn't even gift Doctor Speight with all his eccentricities that eye-watering abomination.  
  
"You only have a few weeks to go, it would be silly to take risks now." Jeff says ushering Jensen towards a pile of soft cashmere sweaters tottering on a display table.  
  
"It's not a few weeks," Jensen hisses. "It's months." Turning his back on the subdued grey sweaters, he snatches up a purple scarf with yellow suns beaming from it and hurls it in the wire basket Jeff is holding. He stares at Jeff as though daring him to remove it.  
  
Jeff doesn't, he's dealt with a hormonally volatile Jensen for long enough to know when to pick his battles. He does wonder to himself if sudden onset colour-blindness is a side-effect of pregnancy. It's certainly not in any of the books.  
  
"Still we were lucky to be able to - " Jeff glances around them before continuing in hushed tones, "- to have intercourse for as long as we did. If not having sex is safest for you now, then I can live without it. And so can you." he adds sharply when Jensen opens his mouth in obvious disagreement. "Your body is working hard enough already to cope with this pregnancy. We aren't straining it any more than necessary."  
  
"Maybe it's more of a strain to my body to deny it what it's craving. Did anyone think of that?' Jensen snipes back. "You think I'm going to be relaxed and taking it easy when my hole's leaking slick down my ass because it's desperate for your cock to fill it up?"  
  
 Jeff feels a crimson flush flood his face as the store goes suddenly quiet just as Jensen's voice reaches a crescendo.  
  
There are times, not many, but there are times he wishes Jensen hadn't regained the desire to speak. In public anyway.  
  
''Jeffrey, how delightful to see you."  
  
The voice, the tone, those words can only belong to one person. With a heated feeling of dread crawling up his neck, he turns around. "Mother, what a surprise. How are you?"  
  
His mother's face has the pinched expression that makes her look like she's just sucked on a lemon wedge dipped in vinegar.  
  
"As well as can be expected Jeffrey, considering my son never visits, never calls. Am I even to be informed when my grandchild finally arrives?" Her eyes flick over Jensen who shuffles as close to Jeff's side as he can get without hiding under his jacket.  
  
Swapping the shopping basket into his other hand, Jeff wraps his free arm comfortingly around his mate, holding him close. "Mother, I phoned you a fortnight ago, I wouldn't call that never and of course we'll inform you once the baby's born."  
  
"And when is the due date?"  
  
How his mother manages to fill a simple question with so much derision is a skill worthy of the king of hell himself. You'd think that the fact that Jensen was pregnant at all would mellow her frosty attitude towards him but apparently she's still not content.  
  
"I did tell you already, mother. Jensen is going to have a caesarean section at the end of February."  
  
"Hmm, that's not when the baby is due though is it? Is that advisable? Surely the child would benefit more from a natural birth when it's due rather than being dragged into the world early merely for the sake of convenience?"  
  
Gods, this conversation is becoming a habit. A definite deja vu moment. "I have already discussed this with you several times mother; it is safest for the baby and Jensen for the birth to be slightly early, planned and controlled. I'm sure our specialist knows exactly what he's doing. And frankly I'm not having this conversation with you again and most definitely not here."  
  
"Well I apologise for my timing, Jeffrey, but it's not as though you're planning on visiting over the solstice, is it?"  
  
This one, Jeff was expecting. "Jensen is under strict instruction to avoid all stressful situations. He needs rest and relaxation not to be paraded around like a prize sow in front of your friends."  
  
"Jeffrey!"  
  
"I'm sorry, mother," no Jeff really isn't it. "But I'm fed up continuously going over old ground with you. You treat every omega - including Jensen - as though they are second, no... third class citizens and I'm not willing to put up with it any longer."  
  
"I suppose your friend Jared and his trouble-making omega are behind your sudden omega rights crusade."  
  
"No. This has nothing to do with them. This is to do with what is right and decent. The world is changing around you mother, has changed, and the sooner you realize that, the better."  
  
"Biology is what it is Jeffrey. Omega's need to be owned and bred. They're useless without an alpha; pathetic creatures. Unable to fend for themselves and only fit for the sanatoriums. This fashion for omega-rights is ridiculous."  
  
The vitriol spewing from his mother's mouth is shocking mainly because she can't see anything wrong in what she is saying. That she can so easily dismiss thousands of people as useless is frightening, predominately because she is far from the only one out there who still holds these horrendously bigoted opinions.  
  
"I'm done with this, mother." Jeff was trying to avoid a public scene but it's too late to worry about that now. "In fact I'm done with you. If you have a change of heart and decide that my partner has as much right as you or I to a long, happy, satisfying and healthy life spent doing whatever the hell he wants then feel free to get in touch. Until then I want nothing to do with you."  
  
Jeffrey's mother pales; her face turning a sickly shade of grey under her powder. "You don't mean that, Jeffrey. After everything I've done for you, everything I've sacrificed."  
  
"I do mean it, mother, in fact I've never been more serious about anything in my life. If you ever want to see your grandchild, you'd damn well better reconsider your attitude. Goodbye, mother."  
  
The basket in Jeff's hand drops forgotten to the floor, hideously ugly scarf and all, as he hustles Jensen out of the store, leaving his mother standing mouth agape. He leaves head held high and face a mask of calm indifference, which is at odds with his thundering pulse-rate. He doesn't even notice the smattering of applause he receives or the sales assistant ignoring his mother's request for a glass of water. Jensen clings to his hand at they push through the seasonally busy mall to the nearest exit. Jeff just needs a cool breath of air to calm himself.  
  
They walk silently through the bustling streets to a nearby park that Jeff has always loved. When he was younger, before business lunches and midday conference calls became the norm, he often used to come here at lunchtime. He'd find an empty bench, sit back and relax among the flowers and trees. The background noise of the city fading into unimportance as he watched the dog walkers and joggers pass him by, smiled at the small children enjoying the freedom of the grass to run and play on, shouting and laughing at the top of their lungs. He'd share his sandwiches with the birds or the odd dog that would come bounding up to him chasing the smell of roast beef or cold chicken. He'd forgotten how easy it was back then to find pleasure in the simple everyday things. Life seems so different now. Maybe after the baby's born, he and Jensen can bring a picnic here and enjoy the peaceful oasis together. Well, once it's not quite as cold.  
  
Today, withered dried leaves blow around their boots and a frigid chill bites the air, sneaking below their warm coats. Unsurprisingly, finding an empty seat to collapse onto is not a problem. Jeff tips his head back and closes his eyes, every word he'd just exchanged with his mother running through his head. His hands are shaking, so are his knees. He can't believe after all these years of listening to his mother’s jaundiced views, he finally took a stand. It's positively liberating.  
  
"You didn't have to do that Jeff. She's your mother; your family."  
  
Jeff startles at Jensen's timid words; only now realizes that Jensen has let go of his hand. Is sitting hugging himself nervously, arms wrapped around his swollen belly, looking unsure. Unsure of Jeff or himself, is anyone's guess.  
  
He seeks out his omega's hand, slots their fingers together, marvels at how perfectly Jensen's smaller hand fits into his. "Jensen, you're my family. You and our baby girl. You're the only family I want. I need."  
  
"I'm not worth this, Jeff. I'm not worth your relationship with your only family. I'll apologise to her, I'll say it's my fault -"  
  
"No, Jensen. You won't." Jeff slides to his knees in front of Jensen, ignoring the sharp pebbles biting unforgivingly into his knees. "You are worth more than her, more than anything. Don't you know, Jensen? Don't you understand? You are my life, my world. You've taught me so much, saved me from a colorless empty existence. I love you. I love you so much that everything else pales into insignificance. You are the other half of me, without you - "  
  
Jeff doesn't even realize he's crying until Jensen leans forward and kisses the cold teardrops from his face. “Thank you,” his voice is broken, cracked into rough shards. "Thank you. I love you. I love you too, so much."  
  
When snowflakes dance and flutter from the dusky grey sky overhead, neither man notices until a fragile white dusting coats them both, too caught up in the dizzying world of wonder and promise in each other's eyes. Passerby's strolling past stare unashamedly at the almost tangible air of love encompassing them. Walk away with lighter steps and soft smiles.

 

**Chapter 4**  
  
  
"Jemima?"  
  
"No, she's not a duck."  
  
"Jennifer?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Jessica?"  
  
"Definitely not."  
  
"Jerarda?"  
  
"What? That's not even... no... just no."  
  
"Jet? That's cool. Jet Morgan."  
  
"No, Jeff. We are not calling her Jet. Do you have any idea of how much teasing she'd get at school?"  
  
"Jinx?"  
  
"Are you insane? Seriously, are you nuts? Give me that book."  
  
Jensen drops the parenting magazine he’s flicking through and snatches the baby names book from Jeff's hand. He may complain frequently and loudly about swollen ankles and puffy hands, fingers that are turning into thick sausages and his ever expanding baby belly - which is actually not that big, just very round and incredibly cute - but they've not slowed his reaction times down any.  
  
“Joan?”  
  
“No!”  
  
"Joanna?" Jeff grins at him from his side of the bed. Yeah, he's just messing with Jensen now, but why not, it's fun.  
  
"You... have you memorized this whole thing?" Jensen gapes at him incredulously.  
  
"Is that a maybe?"  
  
"No, it's a no. I knew a Joanna. She was not a nice person."  
  
That piques Jeff's interest. "When did you - "  
  
"I'm not talking about it, ever."  
  
"Jensen, if you remember things in your past that might help the police -"  
  
"No, Jeff, please. Not now."  
  
"Okay, sweetheart. One of these days though we do need to talk about everything that happened, everything that you remember." It's the one subject that's still never discussed between them. Jensen refuses to talk about his traumatic history and with the pressures of pregnancy already straining him, now isn't the time to force the issue. The past isn't worth risking their future for. It's not something Jeff's willing to forget about either though.  
  
"Is there a reason that you're only looking at J names now?" Jensen asks tossing the well thumbed book of baby names onto the floor.  
  
Jeff flips on the alarm button on his bedside clock, slips off his reading glasses and nestles back more comfortably against the pillows now that Jensen's confiscated his bed time reading material. "Well, you know; Jeff, Jensen and J... something. I thought it would be cute."  
  
"Hmmm," Jensen says dubiously. "Cute or nauseatingly sweet. There's a fine line."  
  
"Fine, you hard-hearted grouch. What have you come up with?" Jeff snakes his arm around Jensen's shoulders, pulling him against his chest and enjoying the warmth that seeps from him. Sleeping with Jensen is like cuddling up with a hot water bottle at the moment, only softer and cuddlier. And prettier. And he smells a whole lot better.  
  
"I'm not sure. Something strong, powerful. I was thinking... if it's okay, maybe her middle name could be Gen."  
  
"After you? That's a great idea. Covers the J anyway."  
  
"No, not after me. Gen after Genevieve." Jensen says rolling onto his side and resting his head against Jeff's chest.  
  
"Really? Jared and Gen'll be thrilled. Can I ask why?"  
  
The shoulder blade digging into his ribs indicates Jensen is shrugging. "Just 'cause you know, Genevieve's amazing; clever and beautiful, strong. She stands up for herself, for other people. She'd never let herself be bullied or exploited and she doesn't care what anyone thinks. She's everything I want our daughter to be, no matter if she's omega or beta. I want her to be courageous and determined. I don't want anyone to think they can take advantage of her. I want her to be a fighter."  
  
"Like you." Jeff says, an uneasy feeling washing over him.  
  
Jensen's head knocks into Jeff's chin as he stretches his neck, looking up at him, unwittingly displaying his alpha's claiming mark perfectly. His nose crinkles up in confusion, "like Gen. Not like me."  
  
"You're the strongest person I know, Jensen." Jeff argues, tightening his arm around the omega's shoulders and spreading his other hand palm down and wide across the rounded swell of the boy's belly.  
  
"Hardly! I let myself be taken and used and nearly killed. I acted like a scared baby for months and months. I wouldn't talk or eat. I hid in corners and under beds. I was pathetic. Sometimes... sometimes I still want to hide away from everything. I pray every day that our little girl is nothing like me."  
  
That's... that's the most shocking thing Jeff has ever heard Jensen say. His grip on Jensen tightens even further, so much that he'll likely have finger shaped bruises branded into his arm. "Jensen, you don't honestly believe that, do you?"  
  
There's no response other than a soft hitch of breath from his mate. "Gods, Jensen. You didn't _let_ anything happen to you. There wasn't anything you could have done to stop it. The state that you were in, there was no way you could have fought off an animal capable of wreaking that much damage on another man, but you survived. Against all the odds, despite your injuries and the infections and the cold, you survived. You fought to stay alive. To stay sane. You fought your way back to health. You were brave enough to let me help you, determined enough to keep on going when the nightmares and panic attacks dragged you under."  
  
Jensen's head shakes in disagreement against Jeff's chest. "Sweetheart, how can you not see how amazing you are? Yes, Gen is awesome but she's had Jared's support every step of the way. You... Jensen, you had to fight against the world, against the evilest of men, against ignorant doctors, against _me_. You stood up to me for the sake of our child, if you hadn't, there would be no baby. You've saved her life once already. I want our daughter to have your strength and spirit, your courage and determination, your beautiful green eyes and your freckles. I want her to be just like you; perfect."  
  
"Sap," Jensen sniffs, brushing his hand across his eyes.  
  
"I mean it," Jeff smiles. "Well, maybe not just like you; I don't really want her to have bow legs."  
  
"Hey!" Jensen's hand slaps down with some force on Jeff's bare shoulder. That's going to leave a mark. "I do not have bow legs."  
  
"Of course not, dear," Jeff snorts, bracing for another slap, which he swiftly receives. Teasing a pregnant Jensen is a dangerous game.  
  
Jeff reaches out and touches his bedside lamp, switching it off as Jensen snuggles against him again. Jeff's hand covers the taught skin of Jensen's baby bump and every single time a kick pushes against his hand, a smile sneaks onto his lips.  
  
"Jeff?" Jensen says, just as sleep attempts to claim him.  
  
"Mm?"  
  
"I want to get the nursery ready. Buy some baby things. I'm nearly thirty-two weeks now and I'm fine - our daughter's fine. Everything's going to be okay, I just know it is."  
  
The nursery is a spare room currently occupied by a dust covered rowing machine and an exercise bike. They have no crib, no pram, no baby-bath. There isn't a single item of baby clothes in the house, not a bootie. They haven't even bought diapers. Terrified of tempting fate, Jeff has refused to allow anything vaguely baby sized into the house. Jensen, quietly sharing a lot of the same fears, hadn't felt an overpowering need to disagree. Up until now. Maybe it is time to think ahead, Jeff decides - time to think positively.  
  
"You sure?" He mumbles.  
  
"Yeah, yeah I am."  
  
"Okay, if that's what you want, I think we should do it. First thing tomorrow, I'll call the decorators and we'll start shopping. I love you, sweetheart."  
  
"Love you too." Jensen says sleepily, pressing a kiss to the side of Jeff's throat before burrowing further under the covers, legs tangling with Jeff's and his hand resting on top of the one Jeff has laying protectively across his belly

 

                                                    
  
  
Four hours later, Jeff's woken by Jensen climbing out of bed to make one of his frequent trips to the toilet. He's barely awake, happily letting sleep pull him back under when the bedroom light slams on, burning circles into his retinas.  
  
"Jeff! Jeff!" Jensen's panicked voice wakes him quicker than a bucket of ice water. Fear bucks him from the bed. On shaking legs, he stumbles towards Jensen. Jensen who is standing by the door looking down at the floor. At the wet trail that leads from the bed to his feet. At the mess of watery blood that's dripping down his legs, soaking through the thin material of his sleep pants.  
  
"Shit!" Jeff can't move, stares along with Jensen at the pool of liquid between his legs. "Are you..? Is that...? Hospital now."  
  
"Jeff, it's too early. It's not time. I can't.. she's supposed to wait... " Jensen's shaking, literally shaking; tremors wracking his body so violently his teeth are chattering.  
  
"It's okay, sit down, sweetheart just for a minute." Jeff leads him to the foot of the bed, gently pushes him until he sits down. His breathing is too quick, snappy shallow little intakes of air that aren't doing him any good.  
  
Stroking his fingers lightly down Jensen's cheek, Jeff tries his best to calm his mate, grasping onto the hope that Jensen won't hear the terror in his voice. "It's okay, Jensen. It's going to be okay. I promise. Just breathe for me baby, nice deep breaths okay."  
  
Without leaving Jensen's side, Jeff's scans the room for his cell phone. Where the hell did he leave it. It should be beside the bed. It's always in its charger, on the table, beside the bed. Finally he spots it, fallen on the floor, hidden at the side of the bed. Sprints for it, fumbles with the buttons that seem to have shrunk into tiny useless ants, scrolls through his contacts - who are all these people - desperately looking for Doctor Speight’s number. Explains in a panic, trips over his words, forgets his name. How the doctor comprehends what's happening Jeff has no idea, but he does.  
  
"Go straight to the hospital and I'll meet you there. Keep Jensen calm and try not to panic. Is he having contractions?" The doctor’s voice is welcomingly familiar, calm and professional. Jeff couldn't be more grateful.  
  
"Um... I don't... I don't think so."  
  
"Jeff, ask him. Ask Jensen if he's having contractions, if he's in pain."  
  
Jeff asks. The distraught answer he receives doesn’t do a damned thing to alleviate his panic.  
  
"Shit! Yes, he said yes, he thinks he's having contractions."  
  
"It's alright Jeff, that's okay. I just need to know what to expect. Right, get dressed, grab a bag for Jensen, a towel for him to sit on in the car and go to the hospital. Keep calm and drive carefully, alright?"  
  
"Sure, yeah sure. We'll see you soon."  
  
Jensen's crying. Tears streaming down his face as he clutches his stomach.  
  
"It's okay, baby. Everything's going to be okay." Jeff tries to reassure him as he hauls a small suitcase down from the top of the closet, opens it and stares, mind suddenly blank, he can't think. What does Jensen need? Why didn't they do this sooner? Underwear, clothes, towels, a toothbrush, socks. That's it. If it's not lying in plain sight, it's forgotten.  
  
By the time Jeff's dashed to the bathroom and back, shoved Jensen's toothbrush and a half-used tube of toothpaste on top of the half dozen pairs of socks he's thrown in the suitcase, zipped it shut, opened it again, rammed the baby name book in before zipping it shut again, Jensen's tears have dried up and they've both calmed enough to function at least partially. Jensen dries himself off, slips on his most comfortable maternity pants, an old t-shirt and a well-worn misshapen hoodie that used to belong to Jeff. The contractions that leave him doubled up and breathless aren't regular, thankfully. At least Jeff thinks that's a good thing. He's not sure of anything any more.  
  
It's nearly an hour later when they finally arrive at the hospital. It's not the closest hospital to their house, but it's the best one for Jensen. It has a small birthing center especially for omega pregnancies and an excellent record in male omega births. The fact that it's miles away wasn't a problem because this journey was supposed to be calm and unhurried. It was supposed to culminate in a neatly planned and carefully prepared for caesarean. It was never supposed to involve Jeff gripping the steering wheel in white knuckled fear, apologising for every bump and turn in the road as Jensen groaned in pain and distress beside him. Jeff thanks every God he can think of that at least the snow is staying away for now. A blizzard right now would be enough to completely shatter his tenuous facade of calm composure.  
  
They're met by soothingly professional nurses, escorted straight to a private room where within minutes of Jensen settling on to the bed, Doctor Speight joins them. Jeff never thought he would ever feel so relieved to see the other man. The light blue jeans, X-Men tee-shirt and white sneakers casually worn under his doctor's coat not remotely bothering Jeff the way they normally would. He can only stand back and watch helplessly as Jensen is examined and hooked up to monitors. The sound of the rapid rhythm of their baby's heartbeat soon fills the room to the visible relief of all. Jensen's contractions quickly gain momentum however, steadily growing more and more intense and worryingly regular.  
  
"Okay, Jensen," Doctor Speight says wheeling his stool up to Jensen's head and squeezing his hand gently trying to focus Jensen's attention on what he's saying. "Your little girl appears to be in a hurry to join us. She's fine, her heartbeat is steady, she's not in any danger, but you are in labor and I don't think trying to stop it when it's progressing this quickly is going to work. I'm going to give you an injection. It's just a steroid to help your baby's lungs; it may not have time to work, but it won't do any harm."  
  
Jensen looks across at Jeff, panic still very evident in his wide eyes and Jeff runs to his side, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get there.  
  
"I know this is frightening for you both but try not to worry. Babies born at thirty-two weeks usually thrive perfectly well. Jensen, do you want some pain relief?"  
  
"You're not going to perform a caesarean?" Jeff asks, he'd thought that would still be the plan but the doctor shakes his head. "No, she seems pretty determined to make an appearance on her own so I'm going to let Jensen's labor progress normally. Obviously, we'll keep a close watch on how things are going and if Jensen or baby show any sign of distress we can step in."  
  
Jensen grabs Jeff's arm then, pain screwing his face up and a low pitched moan ripping from his mouth.  
  
"Can't you give him something?" Jeff demands.  
  
"Of course we can. Jensen, I'm going to set up some gas for you. It's perfectly safe, you just breathe it in as the contraction starts and it should at least take the edge off the pain for you, is that okay?"  
  
Watching Jensen in pain is the hardest thing Jeff has ever had to endure. He grips the mouthpiece between his teeth and drags in long breaths of gas and if it's helping with the pain then it's hard to believe, because Jensen is in agony. Curled up on his side, knees pulled up to his belly, one hand clasping the gas and the other wrapped around Jeff's wrist. It feels like it's going on forever but Jeff thinks it's barely a couple of hours since they arrived at the hospital. They lurch from one contraction to the next, stolen moments of calm when Jeff can whisper soothing praise into Jensen's ear - tell him how well he's doing, how proud he is - in between the rising peaks of pain when Jensen sometimes can't even breathe never mind remember to inhale the nitrous oxide.  
  
Doctor Speight comes and goes. He's never absent for long, just long enough to give Jensen and Jeff some privacy in between all their monitoring. The baby seems to be fine but the increasing frequency that Jensen's blood pressure is being taken just adds to the fear gnawing at Jeff's gut.  
  
"Gods, Jeff I can't do it. I can't." Jensen cries, dropping the gas mouthpiece to the bed, shifting and wriggling until he's on his knees, head pushing down into the mattress. Jeff covers his bare backside with the bed-sheet, trying to protect him, even if it is only in the smallest way possible.  
  
He massages light circles through Jensen's t-shirt across his back. "Yes you can baby, you're doing so well."  
  
"Nononono... " Jensen's repeating on a loop and Jeff doesn't really think the boy is aware of what's happening around him anymore; too caught up in the pain. This can't be right, can't be normal.  
  
"Jensen, I need you to roll over on to your back for me again, just for a minute. I need to see what's going on." Doctor Speight and Jeff both help Jensen to turn over, sit up with his back propped on a pile of pillows. Jeff helps Jensen hold his knees up, as the doctor examines between the omega's legs to see how far he's progressing. Jeff stays firmly at Jensen's side not even tempted to peak at his ass.  
  
"Alright." Doctor Speight suddenly stands up, toes his stool out of the way and pushes a button on the wall. "You're not hanging about are you, kiddo. You're fully dilated and you're going to feel like pushing soon."  
  
Jeff looks up at the doctor in surprise - isn't childbirth supposed to last for hours, especially first time labors, what about all those stories of days long labor that people have been so morbidly happy telling him about. Doctor Speight is too busy issuing orders to pay him any attention and soon the room fills to the seams with extra bodies.  
  
"Jeff... Jeff. I don't... I don't feel good." Jensen's looks at him, his face bleached white and eyes bloodshot and watering.  
  
Forcing himself to ignore the frantic buzz of activity that's going on around them, Jeff focuses fully on his mate. "It's okay, sweetheart. You're amazing, doing such a good job."  
  
"No, Jeff... feel sick."  
  
"Can someone help?" Jeff says just as Jensen leans across the bed and throws up on the floor. How many people's shoes he hits, Jeff can't see but they all certainly move quick enough to fetch him a basin.  
  
"Head hurts too, Jeff. Oh Gods... it hurts, Jeff!" Jensen screams, body bowing forward over his knees as he grabs hold of Jeff's hand again and Jeff thinks it's not just his head that's hurting.  
  
"He needs to be in stirrups," someone says from behind a mask.  
  
"No he doesn't," snaps Doctor Speight. Thankfully, because if anyone tries to restrain Jensen in anyway, it's likely to result in Jeff's arrest. They'd only tried once during Jensen's pregnancy to use the leg stirrups. Jensen's reaction hadn't left them in any doubt that it was a bad idea. Some of the issue's resulting from Jensen's horrific past are barely buried below the surface.  
  
Jensen's scream turns into a long groan as every one of his muscles tense. His teeth grind together, face flashes bright red. Fingers squeeze around Jeff's hand but he barely registers the pain.  
  
"That's it, Jensen, push down. Keep going, keep going. Well done, kiddo." Doctor Speight coaches from between Jensen's legs. "Okay steady breathe, that's it. Now relax and catch your breath before the next contraction."  
  
Jeff pushes Jensen's damp hair back from his face, wipes away the sweat pouring down his forehead. Tenderly kisses his cheek. Tries to remember to breathe himself.  
  
Three pushes. That's it. Three pushes before Doctor Speight is telling Jensen he can see their baby's head crowning. Five pushes before the head pushes through, one more quick push and their daughter enters the world. The cord's cut, the baby scooped up and carried away to the other side of the room before Jeff can properly see her.  
  
"Is she okay?" Jeff asks straining to see what's happening.  
  
"She's doing fine," a voice replies. Not Doctor Speight who's still sitting at Jensen's feet encouraging him to push again. "She's breathing on her own."  
  
"Excellent," the doctor grins, "can we see her?"  
  
"Just one minute," is the reply. It feels like longer. It's long enough to find out she has an apgar of seven which is apparently wonderful, weighs four pounds on the nose and is forty centimetres long.  
  
Eventually, wrapped in a pale pink blanket, their baby is carefully held up for them to see by a gowned nurse who walks to Jensen's side. They're only allowed a quick glimpse of their daughter but it's enough to see that she's beautiful. Unbelievably tiny. Purple faced and smeared in bloody goop but beautiful.  
  
"Gods, Jensen, she's amazing. You're amazing." Jeff says in shock as their baby is whisked from the delivery room straight to the N.I.C.U.  
  
Jensen smiles at him, rolls over and pukes on the floor before collapsing back on the bed, mumbling "I really don't feel good."  
  
"Jensen, just push one more time for me. Come on, kiddo now." Doctor Speight barks, all joviality fleeing his face as he suddenly pushes down on Jensen's abdomen.  
  
Jeff makes the mistake of glancing away from Jensen's face to the bloody mess between his legs. The very bloody mess. In fact there's so much blood it's dripping from the edge of the bed where Jensen's feet are planted, down the front of Doctor Speight's white coat. His gloved hands are smothered in bright red.  
  
"I want an I.V of oxytocin set up now and the theater readied. Jensen, we're going to move you okay. It's just a precaution but you're losing a lot of blood and we need to get it stopped. Jensen, you listening to me kiddo?"  
  
The doctor pushes down on Jensen's stomach again and Jensen lets out a faint groan. His eyes latch onto Jeff's for the briefest moment before they roll back in his head.  
  
"Okay, people let's move."  
  
Jeff is pushed out of the way. Too many people in the room, between him and Jensen. He stumbles back into a corner. Everything blurs around him; he barely sees as Jensen is wheeled away. Can't breathe. There's no air in the room.  
  
"Jeff! Jeff... hey come on Jeff, stick with me man." It's Doctor Speight clicking his fingers annoyingly in front of Jeff's face.  
  
Why the hell isn't he with Jensen right now. Either he says it aloud or his expression says it for him.  
  
"I'm going, Jeff, I'm going just... just have a little faith okay, hang in there. He's gonna be fine. You all are. Go and see you daughter. I'll come and get you as soon as Jensen is stabilized."  
  
He turns tail; not quite sprinting from the room but it's a close run thing.  
  
Jeff falls back against the wall, closes his eyes. This... this is what he was dreading. This is what they promised him wouldn't happen. He's still leaning against the wall, sucking in frantic gasps of air, trying hard not fall apart completely five minutes later.  
  
"Mr Morgan?" A soft lilting voice enquires. "Mr Morgan, I'm here to take you to see your daughter."  
  
Jeff doesn't open his eyes. Doesn't want to face this.  
  
"Mr Morgan? I'm sure your mate will want to know how she's doing when he wakes up."  
  
Oh, that's sneaky.  
  
He opens his eyes to see bright blue eyes looking back at him from behind a pair of big round glasses. It's rather uncomfortably like being stared at by an owl.  
  
"Is she okay?" he eventually asks, his voice a bit unsteady but not sounding half as bad as he feels.  
  
"She's a little trouper. Why don't you come and see for yourself."  
  
Jeff allows himself to be led to the N.I.C.U., listens to the lecture about washing his hands with rapt attention, obeys every instruction blindly until he follows the nurse into a room that contains maybe half a dozen incubators and so many machines and monitors that it makes Jeff's head spin. They stop at an enclosed incubator that has a card saying baby Morgan attached to it.  
  
"Here she is. Don't worry about the wires, they're normal, we're just keeping an eye on her. She's doing very well, breathing on her own and keeping her temperature. Her oxygen levels will be monitored closely and - "  
  
The nurse continues talking and Jeff's sure it's all very important but at the moment all his attention is on his daughter. She's lying on her back, spread out with her knees bent and arms lying up by her head. She has a diaper on and it's tiny but it looks huge on her scrawny little body. There are wires taped to her chest, something taped to her wrist and a tube going up her nose that's taped to her little cheek. The side of her face is red and angry, bruised looking. She's lying on what looks like a sheepskin blanket, it's looks cosy anyway and she has a woolly knitted hat covering her head that's slipping down until it's almost dipping into her eyes. Jeff's fingers twitch, itching to reach in and fix it before it annoys her.  
  
"You can touch her. Look, just open the catch and slip your hands in." The nurse says, showing Jeff how to open the hand-sized doors on the incubator.  
  
"Won't I hurt her?"  
  
"Don't be silly; you're her daddy. You can talk to her too. She'll probably recognize your voice."  
  
Jeff's knees cave and he's grateful for the chair at the side of the incubator. Reaching in, he tentatively strokes a single fingertip across the fragile skin on his daughter's tummy before gently pushing the bottom of the knitted hat up over the faint hair of her eyebrows. She squirms under his gentle caress but doesn't open her eyes.  
  
"You're beautiful, sweetheart," Jeff whispers. "Just like your daddy. He's going to love you so much."  
  
When Doctor Speight finds him nearly an hour later, he's still sitting, stroking the skin on his daughter's skinny legs. Jeff doesn't look up at the doctor's face. He looks down. Down to Doctor Speight's white sneakers that are now stained in vicious red splotches of his mate's blood.  
  
"Jeff.. " Doctor Speight says -  
  
                                                                                                          

                                                                         

  
  
Baby Morgan spends three weeks in the N.I.C.U. Jensen spends most of the first one in a hospital bed asleep. He's completely wiped out from the haemorrhaging, blood transfusions and complications he suffered after the birth. That, persistently erratic blood pressure and a low grade fever do their very best to prevent him from visiting his daughter. A photo leaning on his bedside cabinet is as close as he gets to seeing her for days.  
  
When eventually an incredibly relieved Jeff is permitted to wheel Jensen down to the N.I.C.U. for his first visit, their daughter is lying on her back, soft pads taped over her eyes, underneath a blue phototherapy light.  
  
"Her bilirubin levels are a touch too high, it means she's jaundiced. Look, her skin's kind of yellow; it just looks like she's got a bit of a tan." Jeff keeps his voice light, trying to head off the tears he can see filling Jensen's eyes.  
  
"Why?" Jensen says, voice quivering dangerously.  
  
Jeff crouches down beside him. "It's okay honestly, the doctor said it's quite common in premies and well, she got a little bashed up and bruised coming out in such a rush. Her body's just struggling to break down the bruising. She's going to be fine though, sweetheart. She just needs the phototherapy light for a day or two and the doctors say she'll be back on track."  
  
"What's... what's the tube in her nose?"  
  
“That's just a feeding tube, baby. She can suckle but she doesn't have the energy to feed herself yet so it's just giving her a chance to get a bit stronger and gain some weight. They showed me how to do it; it's pretty straightforward. You'll be able to feed her too once you're feeling better and you regain your strength and you'll be able to change her diaper and bathe her.”  
  
Jensen's teeth worry at his bottom lip and he brushes away a rogue tear with the back of his hand. Jeff's chest clenches. This was supposed to be magical; Jensen meeting their daughter for the first time. The promise of this moment has helped keep Jeff going for the past few days when all the worry and stress were piling on top of him. He'd imagined Jensen's face lighting up in delight when he got his first good look at their perfect baby girl. He'd dreamt of them sitting side by side cooing over how beautiful she was and deciding on a name. Instead Jensen's in tears, obviously upset and Jeff can't understand why.  
  
"You can touch her, Jensen. She won't break," Jeff urges. Maybe once Jensen can feel her skin under his, he'll feel better. "She's a tough little cookie just like her daddy."  
  
"No, I don't want to hurt her." Jensen tucks his hands under his arms.  
  
"Come on," Jeff coaxes gently. "You've waited so long for this. She needs you, she needs her daddy."  
  
"No, she doesn't," Jensen says. "I'm tired, take me back to my room please."  
  
"Jensen," Jeff pleads, confused and frightened by his mate's attitude.  
  
"Either take me back or I'll get out of this stupid wheelchair and walk there myself." Jensen's already pushing up to his feet leaving Jeff little choice but to do as he asks.  
  
Reluctantly, he leaves Jensen in his bed, his mate having brusquely shrugged off all of Jeff's attempts at comforting him. The covers are pulled up past the omega's head. He's curled in a ball, miserable and shaking, in tears. Jeff's heart feels as though it's crumbling in his chest.  
  
"Try not to worry," James says, a little later. He's a nurse who's spent a lot of time looking after baby Morgan, teaching Jeff how to help care for her. Jeff's sitting despondently beside the incubator, watching his daughter stretch out her scrawny limbs then wrap her tiny delicate fingers around Jeff's fingernail. He pats Jeff's shoulder, "he'll be fine. His hormones are all over the place, he's exhausted and drained. He doesn't know whether he's coming or going right now."  
  
"I thought he'd be amazed you know. Just fall in love with her and it'd be... I don't know. Just... not that."  
  
"It's all got to be a bit overwhelming for him, Jeff," James says switching off a bleeping alarm, that once would have had Jeff in a panic but he barely even notices now. "You've had days to get used to all this. You've spent hours and hours with your little girl; you're comfortable here now. You know us, the doctors, some of the other parents. Jensen doesn't. All he sees is a tiny poorly baby separated from him by the walls of an incubator, whom he's never met, never held, never been able to feed. He's scared. He probably feels guilty and maybe even jealous that you've spent all this time with her and gotten to know her while he's been feeling like crap."  
  
"Really?" Jeff says, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He hadn't even thought about half of that. Sometimes he really can be an oblivious moron. "What should I do?"  
  
"Give him a day or so before you bring him back down. Talk to him about her, tell him how much she needs him. Maybe try and pick a name even. Then bring him back down and we'll try some bonding. Have you ever heard of kangaroo care, Jeff?"  
  
  
It’s another three days before Jeff manages to persuade Jensen to make the trip down to the N.I.C.U. again. It’s been three long days of tears and mood swings. Jensen is slowly recovering from the birth and the subsequent surgery and blood-loss. He’s tired and upset, at best uncomfortable, at worst in pain. His blood-pressure remains a concern and is being monitored frequently. Nearly every time Jeff walks into Jensen’s private room, there’s a blood-pressure cuff wrapped around his arm and a nurse fussing at his bed-side. He’s speaking so rarely that Jeff is scared he’s slipping back into his comfort zone of silence and subsequently refuses to leave his side before at least a word or two breaks through those stubborn lips.  
  
They still haven’t chosen a name for their daughter. Jeff can’t even force a smile or an eye-roll onto Jensen’s impassive face despite the increasingly ridiculous names he’s suggesting. His last creation of Pineapple Morgan was met with little more than a shoulder shrug.  
  
“Jensen... sweetheart, don’t you want to go down and visit with our baby girl? Maybe if you saw her again, you’d be able to come up with a name for the poor little thing.” Jeff says trying for the third time that day to convince Jensen to make the short trip to see their daughter.  
  
Jensen shakes his head, burrows his face against his white cotton pillow. “You choose.” A very muffled reply.  
  
“No! I’m not picking her name on my own. She’s our daughter. We name her together. Come on, she’s going to be wondering where her daddy is.”  
  
Jensen at least rolls over onto his back this time so Jeff can hear his reply. “She doesn’t even know who I am. The nurse helped me express my milk, that’s all she needs from me now.”  
  
“You carried her for thirty-two weeks. You spoke to her, sang to her, ate pickled gherkins dipped in chocolate sauce for her. Of course she knows you.”  
  
Choosing to hide rather than respond Jensen throws his arms up over his face and huffs out an irritated breath.  
  
“Jensen, please listen to me. It’s important for you and the baby to spend time together. She needs you. She’s down there all alone right now. Having her daddy nearby would help her so much, help calm and soothe her.”  
  
“Why don’t you go and sit with her then and leave me alone.”  
  
“Jensen!”  
  
Jeff knows that Jensen is not in a healthy frame of mind, isn’t thinking clearly or remotely rationally but that doesn’t stop the frustration balling up inside of him from wanting to explode. He has to force himself to gentle his voice before opening his mouth again.  
  
“Sweetheart, you gave birth to her. You’re her daddy. She’s tiny and defenceless and she needs you.” Jeff cuts Jensen off before he can even begin to rebut that this time. “Yes, she has me and I love her and she has the nurses and doctors looking after her but she needs more than food and warmth and clean diapers. She needs the person who’s loved her since she was nothing more than a teaspoonful of cells, who fought for her and cherished her before he even set eyes on her, who nearly died giving birth to her and who never gave up on her. She needs to smell your scent and feel the warmth of your skin. She needs you. I need you, Jensen. I need you not just to lie there and give up because you’re scared.”  
  
Jeff can’t hide the break in his voice and the tears sliding down his face by the time he finishes. Jensen’s just lying on his back on the bed, chewing on his bottom lip punishingly hard, eyes clenched shut tight against the world. Against Jeff.  
  
He can’t do this anymore. It’s too much. He has to get some fresh air, find a bit of room to breathe. If he doesn’t, he’s going to end up breaking down, sobbing like a child in front of Jensen.  
  
Standing up abruptly, he leans down and brushes his lips against Jensen’s cheek, pretending that he doesn’t die a little inside when Jensen flinches. Flees the room, fighting angrily against the tears blurring his vision.  
  
He finds himself outside the hospital, leaning against a damp brick wall, snot dribbling from his nose and tears dripping off his stubbled chin. Fuck, he’s a mess! Thank all that is sacred that it's late in the day and too dark for anyone to see him clearly. He’s supposed to be a big strong alpha, great Gods almighty. He’s supposed to protect his family, hold them all together. He’s not supposed to fall apart, to blubber like a little girl and his heart isn’t supposed to feel as though it’s been ripped out and crammed through a meat grinder.  
  
Scrubbing his face with the sleeve of his sweater until he can see clearly and his nose stops running, he takes a few deep breaths. Inhales and exhales slowly, forces air in to his lungs and the panic from his head.  
  
He stays right there, back against the solid brick wall, until his eyes don’t feel like they’re full of grit and his nose doesn’t feel as though it’s stuffed with cotton balls. He’s stiff when he eventually pushes away, fingers numb and joints aching in the sharp chill of the air. He’s also exhausted. He wants a cup of coffee that doesn’t taste like watered down mud; he wants a hot meal that hasn’t been nuked in a microwave; he wants a warm bed and a good night’s sleep. He wants Jensen to realize how important he is to Jeff and their daughter, and he wants his daughter to have a damn name. He wants his family to be okay.  
  
Stop feeling so sorry for yourself, get a grip, get a damned grip. Stick a smile on your face and go and see your beautiful little girl. Stop being such a whiny bitch. Count your blessings and get a grip of yourself. Jeff gives himself a mental pep talk or more accurately a mental dressing down on his walk back into the hospital.  
  
He strips off his sweater and washes his face as well as his hands before he steps into the small bay that his daughter’s incubator is now in. It’s after eight, so the lights are dimmed slightly and there aren’t too many other people around. The calmness of the peace and quiet in the room sinks into his bones, finally relaxing the tension from his muscles.  
  
Then he looks across at the incubator in the corner where his daughter should be lying. Except she’s not. She’s lying against the bare chest of her daddy, a warm blanket tucked around them both. Jensen looks up, sees him standing stock still in the doorway. A hesitant smile nudges at his lips and he looks at Jeff with those green eyes than make Jeff’s heart do somersaults.  
  
“She’s beautiful,” Jensen says. “Just like her papa. She’s got your chin and your ears.”  
  
Jeff can’t squeeze a response past the lump in his throat. Instead he lets his feet take him to Jensen’s side, drops on his knees beside his mate and lays his head against Jensen’s arm, looking at his daughter’s wrinkly little face.  
  
“I’m sorry.” The words are barely audible, but Jeff hears them, feels the air above him move. Shudders as Jensen presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I love you. I never wanted to hurt you... or her.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Jeff sniffs. “You’re here now. We’re all here now and I love you too.”  
  
He carefully folds Jensen and their daughter into his arms. The three of them united together, exactly the way they should be. Ignores the wetness escaping his eyes because gods above, he can’t possibly have enough moisture left in his body to shed another tear.  
  
“You weren’t serious about calling her Pineapple, were you?” Jensen says, efficiently ending the moment. “Cause I’m pretty sure that’s child cruelty.”

                                                       
  
  
Matilda Jennie Morgan is tucked against her daddy's naked chest wearing only her diaper. Jensen's leaning back in a rocking chair, cradling his little girl against him inside his shirt. A wide smile spreads across his face as his baby's mouth roots around looking for food. She's still being tube fed but Jensen's able to express milk for her and once or twice a day and if she's awake enough, she'll suckle at his nipple. Maybe she doesn't gain much sustenance from it, but the benefits to daddy and baby are invaluable.  
  
Jeff watches them, grinning stupidly.  
  
"She's getting big, huh?" Jensen says looking up at Jeff, green eyes shining brightly.  
  
"She sure is," Jeff agrees. "She was back up to four pounds three when they weighed her this morning."  
  
"She's a clever little thing, aren't you, Mattie," Jensen coos. "And you're pretty too. You're going to be a real handful when you're older."  
  
"Just like her daddy," Jeff agrees.  
  
"You mean you, obviously," Jensen says, unable to resist kissing the dark wisps of hair on his baby girl's sweet smelling head.  
  
"No, we decided that I'm papa. You're daddy."  
  
"Well, papa, I think it's diaper change time and it's your turn."  
  
"No way," Jeff argues. "I changed the last one when she exploded poop all over the incubator. I have no idea how such a tiny thing can make so much mess. I had to change all her clothes, the sheets and even the mattress. This one is all yours."  
  
"Yeah, I don't mind," says Jensen.  
  
"I love you." Jeff says suddenly.  
  
"Yeah, I'm changing this diaper, not them all." Jensen smirks up at him. When he notices the serious look on Jeff's face; his expression morphs into a genuine smile, one that lights up his whole face and makes Jeff feel as though the sun has just appeared from behind a cloud and embraced him in its warm rays.  
  
"I love you too."  
  
His family thinks Jeff, heart overflowing with love and pride and fierce protectiveness. This is his family and the bonds that tie them together - he's never going to allow them to break.  
  
  
Finis - Thank you very much for reading!

 


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